Question Mark: ?
by Yugicanbesexy
Summary: Has Sherlock Homles met his IQ match? And as a Gang of Gangsters sweep across London murdering women, and threatering Homles, he'll will need every man and woman  he can get. Plus Sherlock dances later on.
1. Grey Eyes

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Chapter one: Grey Eyes

John Watson climbed up the stairs to Sherlock and his apartment; the night shift had been text book in the hospital, no emergency's apart from an autopsy on a woman that had been stabbed 38 times.

John shivered at the memory he wanted a good night sleep after_ that _gruesome site, with each step a new wave of naïve hope brushed against him: it was six in the morning and Sherlock was not playing his violin…maybe just maybe…

A soft but scratchy hum went through the air.

"Never mind" muttered John under his breath.

John walked into the dark front room and fumbled for the lamp switch, a short click confirmed his worst fears that the bulb had gone, he muttered angrily as the ear bleeding noise continued in the back ground.

At last after much searching and brushing of the hand, he screwed in a new bulb into the lamp. Light flooded into the room as John squinted at Sherlock, in his dark blue dressing gown and pyjamas. Sherlock hadn't seemed to have noticed him even though the light had just come on, and he continued to play the instrument.

Once again Watson found himself whishing he knew where Sherlock would hide his god forsaken instrument so he could confiscate it once in a while.

John pinched the bridged of his tired eyes as he muttered to himself: "Morning John how are you this morning?

Oh, me? I'm fine…Well I would be fine if you would stop that noise but hey? (He hissed as he went to the kitchen to make some toast for himself) what do I now? I'm just the stupid doctor of the two, which should know better than to sign up for the night shift."

Sherlock didn't move, he was more then use to Johns rants about his playing and he couldn't care less. At last John seemed to drop it for there was quiet. Sherlock positioned the piece of polished wood and began to play another melody. He grinned a little after hearing John groan from the kitchen.

John walked to his bed room still muttering, "I'm off to bed goodnight!"

"Day" corrected Sherlock.

*6:30 am Sherlock and John's apartment*

John groaned as he walked out of his bed room, he rubbed his eyes he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep because of Sherlock's playing of that incessant thing. He went into the bath room to freshen up.

He was just coming out when the phone rang Sherlock made a dash for it (which he had never done under ANY circumstances), but Watson wanting revenge for his sleepless morning answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this the house of Mr Sherlock Homes?"

"Apartment but yes…"

"Well we were told by the police he'd have a talk at our university about socialism and people's attitude in er…crime…Well the thing is he's running late we where told he would be there for the class at seven and he has thirty minutes left."

"Well, (John glanced at Homes; he was sitting on the sofa glaring at him wondering what he was going to say. John smiled: he had the power) Sir he'll be delighted to go he's getting ready now…And I his assistant will accompany him to make sure he doesn't get lost…what was your address again?"

Sherlock covered his eyes as he heard Watson write down the address of the university.

"I'm not going John" he murmured miserably.

"Yes you are or else I'll flush that instrument of yours down the toilet."

Sherlock sighed but when he saw the wrinkles on John's face, the excess of blood shot in the eyes, and the small tremble of his lips; he knew John was serious. Slowly he stood up.

*06:50 Later in a cab*

John and Sherlock sat in silence not looking at each other.

John was wearing a blue chequered shirt, a black jacket and jeans with a smug smile.

Sherlock was wearing his normal black coat, gloves and scarf, a black jacket, his shirt was grey no tie and black trousers like John's.

*07:05 In the University*

Sherlock sat in his chair he was utterly bored listening to the teenager and senior questions; John was going down memory lane smiling away, remembering his university days and answering all of the questions.

"So like, if you was-"

"Where" corrected Sherlock

"Yeah like, if you where, like, a lawyer, why are you with the old bill?"

"Stupid question" Sherlock sighed looking at the ceiling.

"Homes, how many qualifications do you have?"

"None of your business, next!"

"How much money do you earn?"

"Nothing."

"That's stupid."

"Like something else in this room."

"Dr Watson" someone asked, "Why don't you have a walking stick?"

"Well er…" muttered John. "Wait how do you know I need a-"

"Obvious, your heavy foot steps from the right indicate you have a weakness maybe back, hip or right leg downwards, but the faint smell of ammunition on your trousers show that you where shot in the leg possible that the bullet is still there; maybe because of the police but because of the nature of the wound and it not being fished out I can only assume that the medics where primitive; therefore you have been shot most likely in Afghanistan."

Sherlock sat up the person who had spoken was a woman in her late twenties early thirties, with long shiny maroon hair tied up into a pony tail way passed her shoulders. She had a black long sleeved top with a vee neck cut in the top. No make up. No earrings. No hair highlights. No glasses. Three spots on her face two on her forehead, one on her neck.

"How did you come up with that answer?" he asked slowly.

She sighed looking down at her desk, "Well doctor Watson was walking heavily-"

"I know" he interrupted "but no one thinks like that."

"I still don't have an answer but I'll take it he's too proud. Anyway your question: I believe any one can think like that, if they've grown a brain cell,-"

"You could have read it" Sherlock interrupted.

She was silent for a moment then she smiled sitting back bemused with herself, "Yes I dare say I could of," then she sat back and said nothing else for a while, "so could you."

"What?" he asked standing up "I don't need to read, I know."

"Really? Who am I?"

John sat forward he was going to enjoy this.

Sherlock stood up and walked towards the end of the stage.

"Senior student works in a book shop, single, good grades but can't cook, two brothers no sisters, you have a mother, father left at a young age, youngest but the obvious smartest, born special?...No I'd say you're just lucky, no pets, reads a lot though it hasn't affected your eyes yet, twenty nine, favourite colour green, date of birth 1981 March 28th, oh, yes and you don't like squirrels."

Sherlock grinned to himself but his grin faltered when he saw she was grinning too. She began to clap slowly patronisingly. Sherlock let out a low growl as his eyes scanned the woman again.

"Give up?"

Sherlock didn't answer he kept looking at her, pet lizard still living, doesn't need glasses, name: Suzanne or "Suzy" obviously to her friends, there was something else something big, he banged the back of his head he hadn't had a case for a while so he had been out of practise.

He at last sat down, "I give up. You're lying."

She sat forward smiling at him.

"I'm blind" she smiled at him.

Sherlock sat forward of course, the grey eyes that was out of focus, the bland top so she would know she wasn't mismatching what she was wearing, no need for glasses, couldn't rely on herself to die or put make up on herself and as he stood on the table a white cain by her feet.

"Right, I believe that's the end of this section class dismissed."

"Oh and Homes" Suzanne muttered "I'm 32."

Sherlock sat in silent until all of the students where gone then he got up to call a cab.

"Be quiet" he muttered to John as he sat down.

R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R

What do think? Continue? Or end it there? I don't mind criticism or praise any thing you want to say then just review I don't care what you have to say just say it!


	2. Double Date

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Chapter Two: Double Date

"I'm telling you Sarah this Sally or Shelly-"

"Suzanne" corrected Sherlock from the other room.

"Had him speechless…No this isn't a joke….Yes I'm sure….University of ******…Okay…Yep tonight…Okay love you….See you tonight…bye."

John put the phone down it was ten thirty in the evening and Sherlock was still in the same chair same position, he had been since they arrived back from the university. He at first felt sorry for the man, but then he reminded himself Sherlock had not touched that blasted instrument since he returned so: every cloud.

John put on his jacket, "I'm going with Sarah to the "Singing frog" restaurant want to come with?"

Sherlock looked up at him, "Since when have you ever made me Tag-along to your dinner dates?"

"Well I feel sorry for you" John confessed.

"No there's something more to it, you wouldn't risk your relationship with Sarah just because someone thinks there smarter than me."

"Sherlock there's no shame that a woman beat you, you know women can multitask so I guess they have to be smarter than a man-"

"John."

"Yes?"

"You're not helping."

John sat down on the other sofa looking at Sherlock, "Fine your right, that on usual occasions I wouldn't let you within ten feet of Sarah, let alone expect you to behave within an hour and something, but I can see that your ego is so damaged that you need to make someone be as sad as you are now, so I thought let it be me and Sarah and not a poor stranger that you bump into…"

Sherlock looked away, and then sighed "I'll get my coat."

*10:40 pm cab*

"It wasn't my fault, I knew she was blind but I felt it was a painful subject so I did not bring it up."

"Yep" muttered John.

"It was for her I didn't answer."

"You're a true gentle man."

"Yes and if she did any more of that-"

"Sherlock are you going to shut up?"

"No, John I doubt I am."

"Right," John put in some ear plugs.

"Very mature" glared Sherlock.

*10:50 "The singing frog" restaurant*

Sherlock and John walked into the restaurant, it was quite nice. The ceiling was too high for a normal building so it had to have been something else, but the nature of the foundation estimates that it was Victorian most likely a factory. The tables where 360 degrees circular, chairs had a cushion on the side and the seat both green.

"Hello Mr Holmes" said a familiar voice.

Sherlock turned to see Sarah…and Suzanne sitting at a table.

"Hello Sarah" said John giving her a grin then bending to kiss her.

Sherlock just stood there.

"Is he alright" asked Suzanne.

"No, I am not bloody alright" snapped Sherlock sitting down on a seat.

"Sir that's taken" a waiter murmured.

Sherlock didn't even move.

"Have mine" muttered John sliding his chair then grabbing another.

Sarah cleared her throat, "Well how was your day John."

"Cut the small chat" snapped Sherlock, "I know why I'm here to kick me while I'm down…my grief is a joke to all of you I'm sure."

"No….not to begin with" muttered John "Sarah and I felt sorry for you so we thought a good chat with Suzanne might cheer you up. Besides it was Sarah's idea."

Sherlock sighed he reached into his wallet and found he had no money for a taxi fair so no backing out.

He took a better look at Suzanne she had her hair combed out so it was down to her arms, she wore a black long sleeve top with a short black skirt and black tights and shoes.

"Look Mr Holmes, I want to apologise, when I have to prove myself I get a little…competitive."

"Sounds like someone we know" muttered John.

"Am I forgiven?" she asked holding out her hand.

After looking at John's glaring face Sherlock took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Right" said John clapping his hands together, "now where all friends, lets have a drink."

"Red wine for me" said Sherlock letting go of Suzanne's hand and sitting back.

John looked at everyone else, but seeing as he was the only one who had money to spare, he sighed got up to get two white wines, one red and an orange juice.

As he was waiting to be served Sarah stood up, "do you think she's alright, should we give her a ride home or something."

"Sarah the woman is perfectly capable in remembering her address and calling a cab, she did come here on her own to start with."

"I know but John please remember-"

Suzanne smiled she had heard enough, "I think my good friend Sarah is wondering if I have a sound mind."

"And do you?" asked Sherlock.

"As sound as yours."

"No one has my mind."

"I sure they don't…mines better for starters-"

"What? So I didn't see details about you, I can do better than you with my eyes shut."

"Really? Okay I'll pick you up with that, close your eyes."

Sherlock sighed "I've closed them."

"No you haven't."

Sherlock shut them.

She put a hand on his face; he immediately opened his eyes to see what she was doing.

"You've opened them" she pointed out.

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes again.

"Right let me see…34, tall man, dark hair, (she put a hand in his hair) hasn't washed his hair in three days, wrinkles around the eyes show you don't smile much but when you do it's a broad one, not married thank God, one brother-"

"Oh, how would you know that from my face!" Sherlock snapped.

"Sarah told me now hush. Doesn't work body though good shape, short tempered, sense of class, natural curly hair, by your voice got all of your teeth even though you have a filling to your left somewhere from a child hood accident, doesn't know what the solar system yet you know your nursery rhymes, doesn't drive, yet you where driving gloves, you smoke by your breath, but your giving up by your nicotine patches, and by your voice your male."

She sat back smiling at him, it wasn't her smug smile, but it was a very proud smile for herself. Sherlock clapped his hands in three short claps a patronising clap, but she didn't expect anything else.

John and Sarah sat back down with the drinks. John and Sarah sat across each other smiling at each other with their handy work. The two women with the white wine, John sipped his orange juice, while Sherlock held his wine in his palm in deep thought.

John and Sarah began to talk with each other, work, Sherlock, work, past relationships, murders, news and work. Suzanne chipped in to the conversation when asked questions about her life, but other wise the conversation was between just the two doctors.

"Do you want to order?" asked the waiter.

The group (apart from Suzanne and Sherlock) looked at the menu. The door to the restaurant was suddenly slammed open by a man in tears. There was immediate silence by the guests, as they all turned to look at the man. The man was bald with a white business suit but what many gasped at was the fact he had blood on his shirt.

"My sisters dead" he managed to splutter before he fainted.

"Excellent! A murder just what I need" Sherlock muttered standing up, "I was bored out of my skull."

"Excuse me!" Sarah glared up at him "We didn't have to-"

But Sherlock without a moments look back went out the door and turned to the left.

"I better go after him" muttered John sighing standing up "in case he hurts himself."

*11:20 Outside in an alley way*

Sherlock jogged down an alley way to see a woman's body on the floor the floor was very wet and muddy, from the past rain, but she was dry. John caught up with Sherlock as he was examining her.

"What happened?" asked shakily when he saw the body John.

"Stabbed 55 times."

"Fifty-is that even possible to stab someone that many times?" he asked running his fingers through his hair.

"It would seem. John get my mobile call the police."

"Where…where is it?"

"In my coat pocket."

"Why can't-never mind."

John looked away from the woman breathing deeply as he called the three numbers on the phone pad.

Someone walked down the alley way towards them.

"That can't be the police already" muttered John blinking hard three times.

Sherlock was bending over the body examining her expression, when his "date" walked over to them waving her stick on the ground.

"What are you doing here?" snapped Sherlock.

"I thought you could need some assistance" stated Suzanne.

"We're LOOKING for clues, as talented as you are my dear I'm afraid that isn't in your description."

Suzanne glared at him then she turned on her heel and walked away nose in the air.

"You know" John said shaking his head at Sherlock "I used to think that women didn't like you because you're smarter than them and women like to be dominant, but no it's because you are rude and obnoxious to them and when a nice girl comes along and offers you help you throw it back in her face."

Sherlock sighed bored but he carried on looking t the woman.

She was thirty-six, engaged, wore a black coat, early twenties, blonde high lighted hair, black boots, and white armless shirt, make up stained with her tears, earrings, been held by the throat and held up before she was stabbed continually in the chest and stomach.

Something was thrown in front of Sherlock; it looked like a woman's hand bag. Sherlock turned to see John wearing a smug smile and Suzanne wearing a defiant frown he hand still out after she threw the hand bag.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"I found the handbag by the entrance to the left, I found it because the phone was vibrating try looking at the message, there was a card obvious a ID card, bank notice and her purse with some change not sure how much but there you go."

"Wait I didn't –"

"See it. Well I may be blind but I can still see I can feel vibrations like the police cruiser approaching. Any way more importantly she threw her hand bag because she didn't want blind people like you finding it; look around there might be an important clue. But I wouldn't know because that's not my "expertise" to be looking for clues, now if you don't mind Mr Holmes I'll be going five paces back so I'll be arrested by your collies and taken to questioning. Goodbye."

Suzanne turned and walked away. They heard the police running down the alley. And John began to get the feeling that this was going to be a long night and day.

Sherlock was looking through the bag Suzanne had given him, and he felt a small admiration for her for finding a new clue. He wondered how she knew. He flipped up the phone looking at the text he gave a double take when he saw it said:

"**Hi Sherlock,**

**You're next.**"


	3. You're Next

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Chapter Three: You're Next

John and Sherlock where sitting in the waiting room as they waited to be questioned, they hadn't seen Sarah or Suzanne as they had been questioned.

"We're ready for you" said DI Lestrade.

*06:10am In Lestrade's office*

"Gentlemen there is something the police has been keeping from you."

"The serial killer" Sherlock stated, "how long has it been going on for?"

"Three months. Sherlock this case is one of the most intricate cases I've ever seen, we don't know where to start no clues, no leads, no witnesses, nothing. Forty-eight women have been killed, different families, different races, different religions, different classes, all within the age limit of fifteen to fifty, no connecting similarities. "

"Then why the bloody hell wasn't I involved."

"Well our new…um…Police commissioner Wayne Miles, declared it was weak and unprofessional asking you for advice for every single murder, so we had cut off from you."

"Well what am I supposed to bloody well do?"

"Well you could go out with your girlfriend-"

"She is NOT my girlfriend!" Sherlock shouted at the poor DI Lestrade.

John covered his face; he then cleared his throat looking at the police chief. "Well you've asked us now and Sherlock and I will defiantly take this case…won't we Sherlock."

Sherlock cleared his throat, looked away then said "I need information give me the autopsy on every woman that's died."

As the police chief was sorting through the files, Sally poked her head round the door: "Sir we've finished questioning the witness, their alibi holds."

"Okay they may leave" said Lestrade looking through the files.

Sherlock looked up and said "I want the lady in black to stay."

"Listen here freak, you can't tell us what to do any-"

"Do what he says or it'll be your badge Sally" said Lestrade warningly.

Sally grimaced but nodded.

"Sherlock are you out of your mind?" hissed John "she didn't do it you know she didn't, she was with us. Just because you don't like her doesn't mean you can put her in a cell for the night."

"John I'm not accusing her I need her."

John blinked at him, so did Lestrade.

*06:25 Waiting room*

Suzanne was sitting in the waiting room waiting Watson and Holmes to finish and speak to her. She was more than a little bit nervous; they couldn't connect her to the crime…could they?

She felt someone go across the polished floor towards her; she looked up at them as they stopped in front of her. He was medium build, heavy stepping, and full of his own importance and someone she had not met before.

"I'm supposed to take you to the body" he murmured

"Name" she asked.

"Why?"

"I keep a file on everyone I meet. Name."

"Oh Gaud another one. Anderson."

She nodded as she stood with her stick for support. She held out her arm. He didn't take it.

"Arm please" she stated.

"What, can't walk on your own?"

"No I can't go on my own with out a hazard accruing."

Anderson sighed but took her arm and led her to the room where the body was.

*06:27 The autopsy room*

John was looking over Sherlock's shoulder as he was looking at the body with his magnifying glass. He at last stood up, clearing his throat in the process, and walked around to her left.

John did not now how he kept such a clear head looking at that empty shell that was once a young girl, he cleared his throat breathing hard and blinking hard too.

"You want coffee? I'll get coffee" he said standing up.

"John," Sherlock said looking up from the bloody mess "If you felt this is too much for you then you could have said."

"I'm okay with it, I'm okay."

"I would like a coffee though, no sugar, milk or cream."

John was out the door quicker then a kid who's found out that he has to do the ironing.

Sherlock for another five minutes examined the body, until Anderson brought Suzanne into the room.

"You wanted her?" he stated.

"Yes, Suzanne can you help me examine the body."

Sherlock grinned at the twos dumb found expressions, Suzanne at last reached forward and felt the slab as she pulled herself towards it.

"Holmes, have you gone even madder she's blind."

"Well done Anderson your on excellent form today" Sherlock said his eyes back on the body.

Anderson left obviously to tell his companions that the "freak" was asking a blind woman what she could she, then he pocked his head around the door remembering something.

"And doesn't she have a university to be getting to?"

"I quit earlier today" she said stonily walking over to the slab and putting her stick next to the woman "gloves please Sherlock."

Sherlock grinned and gave her some rubber gloves and Suzanne ran her right hand over the body. The two stood in silence as they examined the figure. Suzanne was frowning as she made a list on what the girl was like, dyed hair, make up smudged, contacts so needed glasses, teeth whitened, breast implant: She was conscious about her appearance and she had money to burn to get it; engagement ring, expensive too, for a woman living in down town London she had a lot of cash, top slashed linen with slick though, shirt barely touched by the murderer, ears pieced three times, two tattoos one on her arm one on her leg, Sherlock clearing his throat, hair extensions, tights around her toe worn away into nothing-Oh.

She turned to look at Sherlock who had cleared his throat so suddenly. "Suzanne….I want to say…Look I'm sorry about shouting at you, you where useless, that wasn't right."

Suzanne looked at him, by the direction of his voice she could tell he was still looking at the body. She blinked why was Sherlock being so kind? She turned her head back to the body. But at last she mumbled: "Don't worry I get it all the time. Apology accepted."

Sherlock nodded clearing his throat in the process. Suzanne stepped back and snapped off her gloves and stood up taking her stick.

"What colour clothes is she wearing?"

"Black."

"For clubbing that's a weird colour."

"I know I think that too."

"Do you have a description of what the women were wearing?"

Sherlock fumbled in the files, where as Suzanne waited patiently on one side of him.

"White shirt chequered black shirt,

Black top with skin tight jeans,

Blue and black stripped top and black jeans,

Black evening dress,

Red and white top with dark blue jeans-damn!" Sherlock cursed.

"There is no pattern?"

"No less then one half is wearing black."

There was silence as the two contemplated that red herring. John came in with the coffees to see Sherlock and his new friend standing motionless frowning at the body. John looked at the body too. Sherlock suddenly kicked the table hard, Suzanne jumped a foot in the air from the sound and this made John jump so he spilt the coffee down his top.

"Sherlock this is my new shirt! Sarah bought it for me!"

Sherlock didn't even look at him; he was too busy cursing to himself: "damn it all! Not one useful clue."

"Not on their own" pointed out Suzanne "You'll need to look at all of the corpses to see the full picture."

"That'll take days, weeks and we don't have days, and any minute another murder might occur."

"Well it's nice to see you finely caring for the poor sods that lost there" began John whipping his shirt with a flannel.

"What no, those sods can go to Hell! No if another murder occurs that that's another corpse to find and look at, it'll take hours to get back on course and analyse all those clues, if only those idiots hadn't have kept this from me the clues wouldn't be stone cold."

"Well Sherlock it's not like you're on your own, me and Suzanne can look at a few bodies and make some deductions of our own like yours."

"Oh brilliant! That means I'm going to mark your work too! Spare me the trouble John. You two are both useless in that respect because you can't see in that respect."

"You're doing it again Sherlock" said Suzanne calmly.

Sherlock groaned holding his head messaging it before he looked up at her again. "What?" he asked.

"Being prejudice, John and I can both work together to look at a few corpses and we can make some good analysis together without your opinion barging it where it's not wanted. And further more Mr I-Know-it-all I could be doing a lot more things then standing here and letting myself be mentally abused by a whiney man who takes it out on his friends by stringing together hurtful comments! So I suggest you get your facts straight and begin to blame the people who deserve it instead of those who wish to help you!"

John began to clap his hands but when Suzanne turned to look at him he stopped and pretended to warm them up. Sherlock was just staring at her, John had snapped at him enough times but never an all out rage at him. He doubted that Sherlock had ever been shouted at with all of that passion. Sherlock, he dared say, for the first time in his life had been moved to silence.

The awkwardness of the matter was deafening neither Suzanne or Sherlock could bring themselves to break it. John saw some files by the corpse that looked like the victim's autopsy documents. He picked up half of them then he took Suzanne's arm.

"Come on; let's get to work both of us."

He led Suzanne out of the room, as soon as the two where out of the room he felt her relax a little and un-tense her shoulders. John looked at her but her expression wasn't visible. He led her to a quiet study room where they could talk and think without being interrupted. They both sat down at a table and began to read the files.

John suddenly looked up remembering she couldn't read, "Do you want me to read it out loud for you?"

"Well I am feeling the heat of the ink, but thank you yes" she said smiling at him warmly.

'She can be very nice if you treat her nice' thought John as he read out loud the files to her.

"Shouldn't we be making notes?" asked John.

"I am. Continue" she stated.

He looked at her then John realised she couldn't write and she wasn't even holding a pen she was staring into space.

"…No you're not."

She just held up a mini tape recorder (that sectaries use) that was recording. "My notes…carry on I'm not sure how much juice this battery has left in it." John nodded and began to read again the files. At last all of the twenty files were read and analysed.

*12:30 Lestrade's office*

John and Suzanne or "Suzy" as she told him to call her, they ate lunch two tuna and pickle sandwiches together in the cafeteria, both of them where so wrapped up in there own thoughts that they didn't even taste there disgusting sandwiches.

"What's the next step Doctor?" she asked at last after finishing her sandwich.

"We ask Lestrade for more in depth info."

"We can't give you all of the bodies but we've got sixteen still here and Mr Holmes has got all of them" Lestrade told them when they asked to look at them.

Both of the trainee detectives growled a little at the news.

"Has Mr Sherlock Holmes, taken out their clothes?" asked Suzanne.

"No…But he would like a look at them later."

Suzanne smiled at herself a little, "I like to clear it out, all of the clothes I need to look at. And I need a more in depth report on the stab wounds, data, data, data, John and I cannot make bricks without clay."

She walked away; John looked at Lestrade's surprised expression and then nodded and followed Suzanne taking her arm in the process.

*01:55 Back with Sherlock*

Sherlock was examining the thirty third victim when his phone vibrated:

"**Dear Mr Holmes,**

**You're made of bones,**

**Which we will break, if you don't drop the case."**

*01:59 Back with John and Suzanne*

John was reading the number of stab wounds to every woman, as Suzanne was listening to her past notes to see if she put a fine comb through them there might be a clue.

At last Lestrade came back with box after box of women's clothing, shoes and bags. Twenty boxes of evidence, John groaned when he saw it he some how knew this was going to take a while.

Suzanne sighed "We better start with the clothes them selves." She picked up her tape recorder and spoke into it: "possible clue the clothing might be lead, John if you could be so kind to tell me the colours for every outfit that would be beautiful."

John blinked but he opened one of the boxes and began to describe to her the colour of every single outfit.

*02:15 Sherlock*

Sherlock looked at the fifteenth victim again, what was the connection? Who would want to kill forty plus women? He looked at the woman again. He looked at the text…"we" that meant it was more than one person, he looked at the phone. He took out his mobile and searched to look at criminals that worked on gangs.

Then something clicked in Sherlock's brain, there was a connection…a feeble one but none the less a connection…All of the victims where engaged, starting or had a family.

What did that mean? There were thousands of homicidal gangs known and unknown in London why did they want to kill them? For sex? No one or two victims between teens to twenty year olds; that would be the answer but forty eight victims? No one was that reckless, not even a group of sickos would kill innocent fifty year old if they where that desperate for sex.

He looked away what was the connection?

*03:12 John and Suzanne*

John finished rubbing his eyes, who had thought women's clothing was so boring he preferred women without clothing on now. No connection why did Suzy ask him to read the whole list out loud, he jumped a little hearing his voice being played back by Suzanne's tape recorder played back the last hour and twenty minutes talk.

She suddenly let out a "Eureka! John I found the pattern!"

"What is it?" asked John dumb founded.

"The clothing started with black clothes twice then a red, so black is an anagram for red always in the pattern one, two, one, two…Then that's the pattern the women where killed because of the colours they where wearing!"

"What does that mean? Why would the murderer do that?"

"No idea! But that's a start we can tell Sherlock we've found an order a pattern. Come on!"

John was immediately up and had taken her arm and was leading her to Sherlock's room.

*02:20 Sherlock*

"Sherlock" both of the trainee detectives shouted as they ran into the room, Sherlock was sitting on the slab his back to the woman as he searched on the internet from his phone. He looked up at them "find anything?" he asked calmly.

"Suzanne found a pattern in the clothes colours."

"The anagram being two blacks and one red piece of clothing."

Sherlock looked up "of course" he muttered.

"What you mean she is right? Women are being murdered because of the colour of clothing they are wearing."

Sherlock began to type on his phone until he found the sight.

"Here it is" he muttered putting the phone on to the table as they all crowded round. "The black gang and the red gang associated by there colours of wearing red and wearing black in public, both are in the south end of London down town, fighting for years for territory."

"So why where those women killed?"

"I don't know…no one would be that stupid to wear the gangs colours if they where neutral…unless…"

"Unless what Sherlock?"

"Unless there is a war on between the groups."

*06:01 Lestrade office*

"People are dying how much more of an emergency can there be?" asked John.

John, Sherlock and Suzanne where in Lestrade's office trying to talk him into a raid in the lower parts of London to take out all of the people wearing black and red.

"Oh, so what do we have? A theory? Red and Black are one of the most popular colours to wear in public we can't arrest all of them. And who has really been killing them? Men or Women? Young or old? Address would be nice too. Holmes, Watson you're both talented detectives but you both know that is a gang homicidal war gets out to the public there will be nation wide panic."

"You flatter me" muttered Sherlock.

"I'm serious Sherlock, unless you or John come up with concrete evidence then I'm afraid no game."

*06:30 In a Cab driving home*

John yawned as he rubbed his eyes he hadn't slept in twenty six hours. Sherlock who was sitting next to John in the cab, didn't look like he needed rest, he was wakeful as ever staring into space trying to get the names of gangs.

Suzanne looked shattered her head kept nodding slightly, her eyes shutting every now and then, before they got in the cab, Suzanne gave John her number and the taxi driver her address.

Suzanne at last nodded off her head falling to the right side slightly until it landed on Sherlock's shoulder, John watched carefully as Sherlock turned to look at her sleeping face on him, he didn't touch her he just looked at her, then he turned back looking straight ahead clearing his throat…Was the great Sherlock Holmes the first consultive detective…blushing?

The taxi suddenly stopped just as Sherlock turned to look at John. Suzanne awoke immediately sitting up.

"Where am I?" she asked more to herself then to any companion she might of remembered.

"Wedding Street, Augusta house number 111."

"Oh yes," she whispered taking her stick and bag with her as she opened the door, paid the driver, then she walked across to the row of houses and began to climb up the stairs one at a time, so they both looked at each other.

"I'll text you" shouted John and Sherlock together.

"Phone" she corrected not looking back, she got out her key and began to unlock the door.

Sherlock closed the door, and sent the driver to Baker Street 211.

Suzanne looked back at the taxi until she was sure it was gone, and then she walked down the steps, back down the street making her way to south end down town London to her real flat, where she was looking forward to a good book and a warm bed.

*06:55 Sherlock*

Sherlock was looking down at his phone thinking, when his phone vibrated from a text.

**Hey Big Boy,**

**We didn't know you where seeing a woman,**

**Well the mouse will squeak her last squeak,**

**If you don't drop the case."**

Sherlock looked down at the text suddenly on impulse he pressed re-dial.

The phone began to dial.

He heard the tone on the other end.

Then the phone was picked up on the other end.

"Hello, this is Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock said to the caller, grinning to himself.

R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R


	4. We've Got People Everywhere

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**PLEASE READ LIZ AND ANYONE ELSE OFFENDED: I can spell, but in my first chapter I wrote Holmes wrong and spelt it as "Homes". I would say it was a typing error but since I've made that mistake five times I will have to say, I had just started writing Sherlock fan fiction so I was unused to spelling his name. So I'm sorry I'm a mix between a dyslexic and a poor writer so I'm once again sorry. Please forgive me.**

Chapter Four: We've Got People Everywhere

"Hello this is Sherlock Holmes"

Sherlock said grinning.

"Ah Mr Holmes" said a voice that had been altered to sound ominous and robotic "I see you've finally found your balls and have called me I knew that last one would get to you *chuckle*."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to shut down your investigation like."

"Why?"

"I've read your blog. What was it the dame in pink?"

"A study, but yes."

"Well Mr Sherlock if that is your real name, stop the investigation and look the other way or else there will be consequences."

"How do I know you can do it?"

"*Chuckle* Well Mr Holmes if you want to take us all out, then there is one thing that you must know about the blacks gang."

"Which is?"

"We've got people everywhere."

Sherlock looked around, suddenly the driver swerved so he was heading for a building.

"JOHN! Get out of the car!" shouted Sherlock trying to get out of the car. The doors where locked.

John suddenly woke up and began to hit the door with his fist. Sherlock closed his eyes as he tried to think.

"SHERLOCK!" shouted John as the car was inches from the building when:

BOOOMMMMMMMM!

The car crashed…

*? Sherlock*

Sherlock groaned as he woke up and sat up, the room was a blinding white as he struggled to get into focus with the room. His mind began to take notes but it was slow very little he could pick up about his surroundings the only thing he could pick up was.

'Where am I? In hospital? John! John. Where's John? That crash….The driver. That text! Suzanne. Where was Suzanne? Where was…'

Sherlock blacked out.

*? John*

John was groaning his body was flinching covered in rubble, his lungs where chocking on the dust and sand, he couldn't see, he couldn't breathe. Was he in the army? Had he been shot again? No, he was with Sherlock. Yes Sherlock. And the car. Sherlock! He couldn't. He couldn't…..

He tried to move but his limbs had no control they began to spasm at the wait. He felt blood doing down his forehead. He laid even flatter on the floor of rubble and metal even flatter feeling his spit; bile and blood chock his throat and burn it.

Way, way in the distance he heard people talking and sirens in the distance.

'It's too late' thought Watson, 'I'm dead.'

*09:10am two days later, Suzanne*

Suzanne was angry; she was annoyed, frustrated, angry, and furious. Her phone hadn't called for two days and it couldn't take texts so they could only phone.

'"I'll text you" they both said' she thought savagely 'what part of "phone" didn't you two comprehend? Were they both stupid? Sherlock yes. But not John.

She had called the police department but they couldn't seem to remember her. And told her to sod off when she asked for Sherlock and John's apartment. She could remember the street was Baker Street but not the house name, if only she hadn't been so tired.

*09:34 Baker street 221*

Suzanne heard a woman come to the door; her dark green coat wavered in the wind as she waited for the door to open. The door at last opened to a woman, elderly, with high heels on her feet. But since Suzanne had talked to so many women and men already on this street her senses had grown lazy.

"Yes?" asked the woman uncertainly.

"Hello, is this the apartment of Mr Holmes and Dr Watson?"

"Yes…Who are you?"

Excellent, now to find out where they are but first…a little fun, for them forgetting about her.

"Hello I'm Rachel Holmes Sherlock's sister." She said holding her arm out for her to shake.

The woman hesitated, that meant Sherlock never mentioned his family to her. Perfect.

"Can't you see the family resemblance? I can't. Sherlock was always the black sheep of the family, always out the door to solve a puzzle. He's never spoken about me? Oh that will explain a lot, he never liked his family, maybe because I'm family, or maybe because I'm blind? Who knows?"

Had she over done it? No Mrs Hudson's breathing through her mouth instead of her nose showed she was smiling.

"Oh my dear" she was obviously smiling now, "come on in you look freezing, John did say something about a Shelly or Sarah or Suzanne coming over come on it."

She led her into her lounge where she gave Suzanne some tea. The house was very big, same with the sofas, Holmes and Watson must pay her well or she must have had a good paying husband and job.

"I think I remember him mentioning you, I always told him to contact with him family before it was too late, but that Sherlock never listens. I had two sisters you know…But they weren't blind. I'm afraid Sherlock and John are out on a case so there not here, they could be gone for days on end."

"How long have they been gone?" She muttered, when she got her hands on Sherlock's neck she'll-

"Two days I think."

She blinked at her snapping out of her thoughts. What two days had passed she did the calculation in her head two days had passed. Mrs Hudson was still blabbering to her something or other.

"Mrs Hudson" she snapped interrupting her, "Are you sure? Two days exactly?"

"Well yes, maybe three but yes around that number."

Suzanne got up in a trance she grabbed her stick and began to sprint to the door over turning tables, lamps and other meaningless ornaments.

"Oi, where are you going? And what have you done to my bloody house!"

"Sorry Mrs Hudson something came up, send the bill to , I have to go goodbye" and she was out the door singling for a taxi before the old woman could get to her.

"The London Police Department and step on it."

"Oi, love I'm holding this taxi for someone else. So sling your hook."

"My good sir you have to give me a ride because-"

Mrs Hudson ran out the house signalling for the taxi driver to stop and calling for Suzanne to get back there, and when she got her hands on her she'd have more than her eyes broken.

"-Because that mad woman is chasing me and will kill us both. Hurry!"

The taxi driver was off like a shot. Suzanne let out a sigh of relief as she laid her head against the seat, but in her mind her head was all over the place.

"Can you make a stop here I need to call someone" she said putting on her victim and teary eyed victim look.

"Sure love, sure" he said stopping the cab.

Suzanne got out but as soon as she had her last leg through the driver put on speed and was gone. Suzanne growled but walked over to a the pavement and looked and asked to see where the nearest phone box was. She at last found one; she reached in and took out the yellow pages.

She wasn't very good at ink reading, but it was not impossible. Sherlock…Sherlock she ran her hand down the book until she came to the S section, Suzanne used her little finger until she got Sherlock's ad about investigation for crime, she took out her phone and carefully called it.

It rang, and rang, and rang.

At last someone picked up.

"Sherlock Holmes's phone how can I help you?" said an uneasy voice.

She hung up. She recognised the voice of the receiver to belong to Anderson. She walked to the road and singled for a cab, all the time her phone would vibrate from a text or another phone call. She didn't need her eyes to know it was Anderson.

*09:43 London Police Department*

Suzanne walked up to the main desk of the police department; she rang the bell waiting for someone to answer. She had no idea what she was going to say. But she didn't have too because Anderson (she could recognise that self important strode anywhere) was striding towards her.

"YOU!" he shouted at her grabbing her wrist, "You're the one whose been calling the freak's phone. Haven't you? Haven't you!"

He shouted right in her face, she slightly pushed him away, then answered calmly "I'm sorry for the trouble but-"

"Trouble? Trouble! You called us we though it was a lead. We tried calling back but you wouldn't pick up! We tried to find you; we tried to text you nothing! You where our only lead , so now for wasting police time yet again you'll be spending the night in a police cell!"

Suzanne glared at him, and then spoke calmly "Vis versa Anderson, if any of you had called me I could have told you a lot quicker what had happened a lot quicker then you putting your thick heads together, well listen here buddy I'm not being put in one of your cells. Do you know why?"

"Why" he asked slowly.

"Because I know who hurt John and Sherlock and if you give me ten hours I'll have their number, the name, the lot and I know where to start now good day."

*09:46 a cab*

She had almost ran to a cab and sat down making them go to her real flat: Thurgood Lane flat 12 B. She smirked to her self as she took out Sherlock's phone out of her pocket.

Rewind two minutes ago.

"-I could have told you a lot quicker what had happened a lot quicker then you putting your thick heads together, well listen here buddy I'm not being put in one of your cells. Do you know why?"

She slipped her hand into Anderson's pocket, of course the phone had been vibrating so she was attracted to it going out on a whim that Anderson might have been stupid enough to bring Sherlock's prize phone with him. He was. The phone was wrapped in what can only be an evidence bag.

Anderson was so distracted by her passionate speech there was no: "Oi give that back" or grabbing her hand. She put the phone in her pocket and left a note in blind print which said "Woollen Scarf".

Speed back to the present.

Suzanne smiled and almost giggled to herself because she could imagine the other policemen's anger towards him for losing that phone to a blind girl. She giggled again, if only she could have been there.

*(…And because I'm seriously immature) 09:46 Anderson*

Anderson smiled his cocky smile, as he strode back to the meeting.

"I've found out who our mysterious caller was" he said smugly.

"Who?" asked everyone at the same time.

"That blind bitch, Sherlock asked to look at the body with him."

Everyone remembered and recalled together.

Molly suddenly ran in "excuse me sirs but I've just got a call from the hospital. It's Sherlock and Watson, their awake. And Sherlock is asking for his phone…if you are busy I won't mind taking it too him" she said her regular blush creeping onto her cheeks whenever she talked to or about Sherlock.

"No I'll do it" sighed Sally "someone sensible better do it."

Anderson nodded and put his hand into his pocket to take out the phone, he put his hands in the other pocket, looked around the floor but no phone. Everyone stared at him.

"Anderson" muttered Lestrade slowly and quietly "please tell me you've got the phone on your person."

Anderson felt in his pocket again to see if he had magically been imagining it empty. It was but a piece of paper fluttered out. Sally picked it up.

"I think I know what happened" she murmured.

"Really? What does it say?" asked Anderson sweating a little.

"No idea, but look" she turned the card around for everyone to see that it was in blind text.

*10:59 Suzanne's apartment*

Suzanne had just dislocated Sherlock's phone, taking out the sim card, she then wired it up to the computer so she could hear his text messages. She heard the three threatening ones and at the last one and gasped.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

She took out her phone and began to dial up a number; her hands where shaking so much she couldn't get the numbers right and had to try six times. Until at last she breathed out and forced herself to think slowly and calm down so she could type the number slowly.

The phone rang….at last it was picked up.

"Well, well, well, the mouse has called, what a surprise."

The voice was the same robotic voice that Sherlock had heard, but unlike the consulting detective Suzanne knew who it belonged to.

"Don't call me that Jack; I'm not six any more."

"*Chuckle* is my disguise that useless you knew from first guess…and how did you get my number? And don't call me Jack yourself that's no longer my name."

"Got the number from the detective's phone and simply put it on mine, because I'm sure their listening to his phone so I'm going to let them interrupt each us while we talk."

"Cut the small chat mouse, you know if I told the leader, that you where helping the enemy then he'll be gutting you before you can even open your eyes. Talk to me: how much does Holmes know?"

"Don't know. And I'm not helping"

"Liar."

"I haven't worked with him yet. And he's not doing any harm he has an ordinary life."

He growled a little, "You're close. the case has been on for three months how come he's let go on for this long."

"Why did you just text him…"

Suzanne stopped the murderer, Jack or someone else, saw herself and Sherlock looking for clues together…the hand bag had they left it for her to find and give to Sherlock…the text…that text was meant for Sherlock…this had all been a game for the gang, a game of chess and she was the pawn.

"Jack listen to me, you don't have to do this, you can give up and walk away, I did, please don't let them kill anyone else, I can help, I know people that can help. Didn't we use to be in love?"

She breathed out that was the last trick in the book. If Jack was going to tell her anything he'd tell her. She knew him.

"*Chuckle* you think I'm that sixteen year old brat I once was? No now that I'm a general in the gang, I've got everything I ever wanted, but I'll tell you this that the women have another thing in common more then there colours it's-"

A beep of a recorder went across the line. She stiffened. Of course… She was so stupid! She had given John her number. And practically handed them her password: "woollen Scarf" The police weren't completely stupid when they found that Sherlock's phone hadn't worked, so they tried hers...

"Suzanne" said the voice chillingly serious now "how long have your "friends" been listening to us?"

She didn't move, she gulped a little knowing what he was thinking.

"I Knew I couldn't trust you" He snarled off the other end "Well you're not protected any more, not by me, not by the leader either."

"Jack please-"

"MY NAME IS NOT JACK! It's now Red hunter since I joined the black gang. And you had the nerve to remind me that we loved each other."

She covered her face. She was a fool. She missed calculated. And now she was going to pay the ultimate price. She sniffed tears and snot going down her face.

"Do me a favour Jack…" she mumbled into the recorder "make it quick."

He chuckled into the recorder then the line went dead, he was coming. She suddenly stood, she was full of adrenaline, if she could get a cab or a police man then she'd be safe. Clutching onto this fools hope she grabbed her phone, as soon as she pressed the number nine a ear piecing sound rang out, they had thought of that. She grabbed Sherlock's phone but the police had locked that one.

She grabbed her jacket and stick and ran for the door. It was raining outside. Damn. Her senses where weakened immediately. She couldn't hear because the rain was everywhere the ground was wet, a recipe for disaster for she would surely slip.

She ran any way knowing they'd be after her. She ran for her life. She slipped three times and was nearly run over. But she had to get away she had dropped her stick in the road so she couldn't fetch it. She carried on running down alley ways, down corners trying to shake her impending doom.

She was suddenly grabbed by the neck and held up against a wall.

"Hello mouse. You've fallen right into the cat's trap."

She struggled trying to move but of course she couldn't.

"Please she croaked, don't hurt me."

"*Chuckle* it was quite enjoyable chasing you, knowing you couldn't see me or hear me, that I could of pounced at any minute."

"Well I told my associates in the gang and he wants me to imprint a message on your mind…a very, very, pacific message for the police."

She closed her eyes this was going to hurt.

"What number are you? Oh yes 2 so I'll stab you twice."

He chuckled. She grimaced a little waiting for the two blows to her gut.

There was a sudden screeching of brakes as a car skidded into the alley where the two where.

The door opened.

"POLICE!" shouted Lestrade jumping out and showing his badge to Jack. "Now put her down, put her down or I'll blow your bleeding head off!" He shouted getting his gun out of his pocket.

Jack laughed it of letting go of Suzanne so she dropped to the floor. "Oh yeah old man? You and whose army?"

Lestrade did nothing but behind him, the police car's door opened at opposite ends.

John came out of the right and pointed his gun at Jack too.

Sherlock came out of the left side, taking out another gun and pointing it at Jack too.

He smiled at Suzanne and muttered: "Hello again."

**How was that? Did you like it? Hate it? I don't mind but please review, other wise I will get demoralized and stop D: (Though please don't call me an idiot again I don't think my nerves could take it a second time).**


	5. A Mad World

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Chapter Five: A Mad World

*12:01AM Lestrade questioning room*

Lestrade covered his face; he pressed the tape machine "For the purpose of the tape the defendant is not talking."

Suzanne was sitting in her chair opposite him a blanket draped around her shoulders, ever since she had been taken into questioning at 11:15 she hadn't spoken a single word she was just staring into space, not looking up.

*12:01AM Sherlock, John and Anderson watching the scene*

John, Sherlock and Anderson where watching on the other side of the tinted black window. The security camera was filming as well so they could analyse it later.

"She might be in shock that would explain the silence" pointed out Anderson.

"No" muttered Sherlock his chin in his right hand. "It's more then that, why isn't she speaking?"

John looked at her; her mind seemed harder yet more fragile then last night.

Rewind back to last night.

_Sherlock smiled at Suzanne and muttered "Hello again"._

_Jack made a dash to her with the knife, Lestrade sensing his decision grabbed him by the back and pulled him away. "JOHN, SHERLOCK, help me!" he shouted as Jack struggled and tried to knife him"I'm arresting you for assault and attempted murder you do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence, anything you do say will be taken down in evidence which you will later rely on in court."_

_Sherlock and John grabbed the man held him and pressed him against the police car handcuffing him then pushed him into the car getting his knife off of him. Jack was not happy with this and tried to put his fist through the glass to try to escape._

"_He's not getting out" smiled Lestrade as he asked for back up from his radio._

"_Sherlock" muttered John nodding over to Suzanne._

_Suzanne was breathing hard with wide eyes; she was shakily trying to get up, her back still pressed against the wall. Her hands felt around the wall trying to make her way to escape._

_Sherlock and John walked up to her. Sherlock took her face in his hands and muttered soothingly "Suzanne, Suzanne, look at me, focus and calm down" he muttered his thumbs stroking her cheeks._

_She at last threw her arms around Sherlock's neck and cried into him, "thank you" she whispered into his ear._

_Sherlock blinked his arms still in the position of holding her face, the tiniest blush on his face, John in any other situation would smile or at least giggle but since there was a psychopath in the car wanting this woman's blood he couldn't see the funny side of it._

Back to the present

Suzanne was in deep thought her black world was in silence she had blocked out Lestrade's useless questions…She knew what she had done: she had killed herself for her foolishness, killed Jack or "red hunter" as his name was now, and had killed possibly every man and woman in this building. She held the blanket tightly against her, she closed her grey eyes, she rocked herself hard trying to stop the bile that was rising in her stomach (which she somehow managed to keep down) and she tried to stop the thoughts from circling her head.

She didn't know how long she was just sitting there rocking herself, crying; and thinking over and over again how she had killed everyone she loved…and when she stepped outside the police station door it would be only a matter of time before she was hunted and shot by the enemy.

Lestrade must have left to get help because when she recovered she couldn't feel anyone in the room. She looked down at the table; she could no longer cry because she was out of water she suddenly felt a new wave of adrenaline come back into her veins saying with it:

"If I'm going to die I'd better make the last few moments of breath worth it."

She shook herself (as if trying to shake all of her left over sadness, grief and guilt out of her) "get yourself together Suzanne, you are not beaten yet." She came out of her chair and sat on the floor meditating breathing hard…there was one thing still puzzling her.

*01:10 John, Anderson, Lestrade, Sherlock*

"She's moving" said John his eyes glued to the screen. The three men went back the screen for thirty minutes at least Suzanne had been having what could only be described as a mental break down.

She began to stretch as well her joints which looked like Yoga.

"She's a nut" Anderson remarked looking at her.

John opened his mouth to defend her, but Sherlock got in before him.

"Well since she was set to be executed and by an old friend as well I think we can let her off. Any way Anderson, she is thrice the detective you'll ever be because she found us a massive clue to these killings. She knows the gang and could give us valid information. But if we lose her trust then we'll lose the only lead. So I suggest Anderson you stop insulting her and try to work with her."

Anderson glared at him he was going to retaliate when Lestrade stepped in not wanting another argument because of his rapidly increasing migraine.

"Anderson I'm sure some paper work needs to be filed; and Holmes, Watson I don't think we're going to get anything out of her now, not at this hour. You two can go home and I'll put her in a holding cell for a night."

Sally came in with a box of things. "You should see her house it nearly as bad as the freak's!" she smiled at Anderson as he strode out the door. "This is all we could find before…"

"Before what?" asked Lestrade suspiciously.

"Before….Well the flat blew up and all the rest of her stuff too."

Lestrade covered his face, "Why are all the difficult cases always two steps ahead of us?"

Sherlock went over to the box to find his phone. He found it. Suzanne had completely taken it apart and the sim card was wired up. "What has she done to my bloody phone" he muttered. He began to put it back together; John went over to the box to look to see if there were any clues. nothing useful just her lap top, two sandwich boxes which contained loose change and the other full of batteries, her walking stick which they had found in the road, three books, her green coat, a change of black clothes, and exactly 34 boxes of tiny three inch tapes with her tape recorder.

Sally picked up one of the boxes of tapes and her tape player. "We might be in for a long night gentlemen" she said sighing.

"Day" corrected Sherlock not looking up from his phone.

Sally growled but walked out with the boxes.

"I'm ready to talk" came a voice from the opposite room.

Everyone turned to see Suzanne sitting cross legged meditating eyes closed.

"Gentlemen I think we can ask her questions now" muttered Sherlock a grin going into his lips.

Sherlock then walked to the door and had opened it with the box of her stuff, then sat down at the white desk in the middle of the room.

"Sherlock," she muttered acknowledging him.

"Suzanne" he retorted.

She began to do yoga stretches and tying herself into knots. Sherlock smiled and put her box of stuff in front to her. She opened one of her eyes from the curiosity, untangled herself and walked over to the table and her chair. She put her hands in the cardboard box realising what it was and began to sort through it.

"Perfect" she muttered taking out her stick and the boxes of her tapes. "Damn it, those oaths took my tape recorder and tapes 23 to34."

Sherlock grinned at her. He allowed her three minutes of reunion before he had to interrupt. "Now you are acquainted again, I would like you to answer Lestrade's questions" he said leaning forward.

"I didn't say I wouldn't, you didn't have to bribe me Sherlock" she added smiling.

Sherlock cleared his throat, realising she was right. His face tensed and the old ice back in his eyes; got up and walked out the door. "She's ready for you" he mumbled sitting at the desk to watch the television to observe with John. Lestrade nodded and walked into the room with his notes.

*01:25 The questioning room*

"Lets start from the beginning again" said Lestrade shuffling his papers and looking at her then clearing his throat. "Why did you take Sherlock's phone?"

"You didn't tell me what was going on I was curious and had questions: why where you so bothered that I had phoned? Anyone could have seen that add in their yellow pages, and phoned but no you did a total man hunt.

And secondly I had to know how much information Sherlock had found, and what had happened to him…The phone was my only link and clue to him.

Also Anderson being so delightfully stupid (Sherlock and John grinned) was practically asking for me to take the damn phone."

Lestrade nodded making a note in his note book. "My second question: How long have you known this 'Red Hunter' or 'Jack' as you call him?"

"I've known Jack for exactly twenty six years, three months, four days, three hours, twenty minutes, thirty six seconds-"

"We get it! you've known him for a long time! But what was your relationship like? Didn't you say: (he looked at his notes) you and him where in a relationship at one time? And when did this 'black gang" get to both of you."

"*Sigh* we were in another life time lovers…I was sixteen he was eighteen. But now I know he was only wanting…" she looked away frowning a little.

"What...Sex?" (Sherlock flinched).

"Yeah…that was it I suppose and…no that was it." Lestrade raised an eyebrow but decided to move on. "Anyway (she said shaking herself) I was always there I could never leave…For reasons even I am not sure of, he joined when he was ten…I would see him in the cells but I had no idea what he was doing…or what he had become in the gang."

"What are your connections with the group?"

"I was in and out, at times when things where rough to stop myself from doing un dignified things to myself, I would do them the odd favour…take a man's ID, steal a purse or brief case…I would ask no questions because I wanted no idea what was going on…I just needed the cash. Other times I would try to get as far away as possible…but they would always find me, so I could never leave."

"How does the gang work?"

"The black gang works for anyone for hire for distorted prices; they have over five hundred members so there are plenty of room for potential jobs." She rolled up her right arm sleeve to show a small tattoo of a number 2, "you see thus? It's your registration mark, it will never come off, if you try to get it off you are considered a traitor of the organisation. The closer to 1 the closer to the leader and the older the member, you can guess how many of them are still around."

"Yes, but what exactly do they do?"

"*Sigh* trained to be assassins, thieves, prostitutes, just do anything where money is concerned."

Lestrade nodded he looked up at the camera and mouthed "Are you buying this?" Suzanne on the other hand sat back and patiently waited for the next question.

"Sooooooooooooo," muttered Lestrade sorting through his papers for the third time. "Can you give us a more in-depth report about the leader of the group?"

"The leader or number 1 as I should call him has all five hundred of us in the palm of his hand. He's the one who started the group and whenever there's a potential buyer or worker, he's the one who keeps them or bins them. But after the customers buy the group's services, the gang must do whatever they say…no exceptions. Or else you are a traitor to the client and the group."

"Okay…Where does the Red gang come in all this?"

"Nowhere, as you can imagine there is a certain competition for certain life styles and this was no different. The Red gang began around last year and began getting clients of their own in the same area. I doubt they liked that so they sent warnings to them. What they are is still puzzling."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…There are no women in the gang apart from two."

Lestrade looked up at the camera but said nothing; he hoped Sherlock might have an inkling of an idea what she meant.

"Well that's all I think we can ask for the time being. We'll give you protection-"

She sniggered.

"What's so funny?"

"Your protection won't save me…I'm a traitor. You know what they do with traitors? They kill us. What part of they've got people everywhere do you not understand. No you should be looking at your police force mate…and what's going on in the next room."

Lestrade stopped and sat back shocked at what she had said. Suddenly a gunshot ripped through the air. Lestrade stood up and was out the door in five seconds, he went into the room where John and Sherlock were still siting. "John come with me, Sherlock you stay they might be still trying to kill you." They ran out of the room to Red Hunter's cell.

When they walked in they saw Red Hunter…But he had sixteen stab wounds through the chest. And a note. A note stuck to his chest saying:

"We Have People Everywhere."

*01:55 Lestrade the Questioning room*

Lestrade walked back into the questioning room shakily, after he had filed away the body and briefed Sherlock and John in the other room about what they were going to do next.

He sat down in front of Suzanne breathing hard: "Suzanne, Red hunter- Jack was found dead in his cell, we'll do everything in my power to protect you-"

"You shouldn't be protecting me" she muttered.

"What do you mean?"

The two men went around the television screen to see what she would say next.

"I'm a dead woman; it's only a matter of time before I'm six feet under. No you lot need to look over your own shoulders…and Sherlock's, because he is their biggest threat, if they take out him then….then they think they'll be free."

"What does that mean?"

She hesitated, "I'm not sure but that's what they always say."

Lestrade patted her shoulder then walked out.

*03:10 Lestrade, Sherlock, John, the meeting room*

Many other people in the force like Anderson and Sally. Lestrade was sitting at the front desk everyone else had pulled up a chair and was making notes (apart from Sherlock who was standing against the wall and was making mental notes).

Lestrade message his tired and throbbing brow. "Well" he mumbled defeated, "we've got people among us who are traitors able to kill, no way closer to deciphering the pattern, over five hundred people to find and jail (an insane amount) and our only lead is keeping secrets and has only a matter of time before she'll be…wiped away."

Everyone was silent; no one knew where to begin. Lestrade realising he was the only one who could make the decisions here, so he took out his notes…shuffled them then sighing stated.

"Holmes, Watson you need to figure out the pattern, we need to know why these women are being killed…there has to be a motive. Sally, Anderson and I will try to track down this gang find out if there are any other witnesses or information about this gang. The rest will try to go on as normal but will help with the filing and the press….I'll take care of Wayne Miles, Okay?"

Everyone nodded and agreed. They got up and exited some to do more overtime, while others were going home to bed. All that was left was Sherlock, Lestrade and John.

John suddenly remembered something: "Err Lestrade, what about Suzanne? Will she stay here and end up like Jack. Or will she be let out and end up like those women and where to? Her flat was blown up. What will happen?"

Lestrade covered his face he had so many problems another would kill him.

Sherlock sighed "I suppose she could live with us and sleep on our sofa until she finds her feet…and the case is over."

Lestrade looked like he could kiss Sherlock.

"Good! Right" he said smiling from ear to ear. We'll release her now and you can take her with you…I'll call a taxi" and just like that Sherlock and John had another roomy.

**HOW WAS THAT? PLEASE SOMEONE REVIEW DX! I NEED A SIGN! DO YOU WANT ME TO CARRY ON OR NOT? I KNOW THE SERIES HAS ENDED BUT SOMEONE MUST READ IT SOMETIMES!...**

**PLEASE SOMEONE PUSH THAT BUTTON BELOW AND REVIEW! **


	6. Two Days And Two Knocks On the Door

Question Mark

Chapter Six: Two days And Two Knocks On The Door

*04:01 Suzanne, Sherlock and John*

Suzanne sat nervously, with her box of things tensely waiting in the cab for the journeys to end; she was in the middle of the two men, Sherlock on her left, while John was on her right.

A few moments ago

_Suzanne was fiddling with her green coat, trying to get one of the buttons sown back on when the door opened. Her ears pricked and her palms went flat on the table to see who the intruder was, but she instantly relaxed._

_There were three people, all men but the reason why she relaxed was that one walked with a tad limp his weight progressing to the right. The other had a self-important air about him, his foot prints delicate and careful. The other person she had never felt before, but judging her situation for the time being, he'd have to be a police officer. She sat up straight:_

"_John, Mr Holmes" she greeted in her casual way, she would have smiled but she was understandably not in the smiling mood._

_The police officer walked over to her and undid her hand cuffs. She flexed her wrist not sure what this meant. "You are free to go" muttered the police officer, before walking away._

_Suzanne almost deflated in her chair, she knew she had nowhere to go and this was her last safe-ish place to stay. She slowly stood up, and felt for her box of things. The box was swiped away from her grasp and both of her arms where taken by Sherlock and John._

"_Come on" John said kindly "until the case is over you are going to stay with Sherlock and I until the case is over."_

_Suzanne blinked at the news it hadn't quite sunk in (she wondered whether this was a good thing or a bad thing), but when it did her old bounce went back into her hair and a big grin went into her cheeks and face. She hugged both men (which they weren't expecting) and kissed every man on the cheeks whispering "thank you"._

_The two detectives both blushed and whipped their faces with the back of their wrists. Then they pulled themselves together, each took an arm, and gave her, her box of belongings and walked to the exit (not before picking up from Sally her tape recorder and tapes 23 to 34)._

Rewind back to the present time

The taxi at last stopped, Suzanne nudged the sleeping Sherlock and John awake. John paid the man muttering thanks while Sherlock yawned and stretched before opening the door to the cab so the other passengers could climb out.

"This is our house" muttered John as he took her to the front of the house Baker Street 221.

Suzanne nodded she suddenly felt nervous, she had completely forgotten what had happened with Mrs Hudson. John put his key in the door, "it's not very big I'm afraid, I'm a bit worried how you'd take the stairs but it's not forever." John added cheerfully.

Suzanne nodded a little but she was biting her lip. John followed Sherlock into the house his arm still linked in hers.

"Sherlock, John is that you?" came the voice of Mrs Hudson.

Sherlock said nothing; he just half walked half ran up the stairs, leaving John and Suzanne alone to explain to Mrs Hudson who their new guest was. Mrs Hudson seemed to be upstairs too. Suzanne heard her talking to Sherlock she stiffened.

"-Your sister came over and how rude she was too what was her name? Rebecca? No…Oh yes Rachel-"

"Mrs Hudson, I have no sisters to speak of…But I might know who it was" Suzanne didn't have to see to know that Sherlock was grinning from ear to ear. Suzanne grimaced she sort of knew this couldn't have waited until she was asleep; she sighed and got herself ready for a battle or two.

Mrs Hudson walked down the stairs and immediately saw her, she ran over to the poor Suzanne because the old lady had recognised her. "You!" she exclaimed "You're the one who broke my ornaments and my best lamp!"

"Mrs Hudson let me-" Suzanne began, struggling not to make a runner from her now.

"Mrs Hudson, this is my apprentice Suzanne" Suzanne frowned at the "apprentice" part but she was wise enough to keep her mouth shut about this problem with Sherlock, "I was teaching her to the art of disguise and she passed with flying colours."

"Sherlock! You'll be the death of me! She broke my ornaments and lied to my face-"

"Add it to Watson's or even my rent," he said about to retreat upstairs, he stopped midway up the stairs then turned back and went down to the last step smirking a little at Suzanne's dumb found expression (though of course Suzanne had no way of knowing this fact).

"Now listen here young man this house is small enough and-"

"Ah Mrs Hudson I think I can hear your oven baking and I'm sure there's some soap opera that you would like to watch on the table" muttered Sherlock half ushering half pushing Mrs Hudson out the door (all the while Mrs Hudson was muttering objections).

"That's Mrs Hudson taken care of" Sherlock muttered as he slammed the door on the poor Mrs Hudson. He turned to smile at John, only for it to fall when he released Suzanne was no longer holding his arm. He looked around only to see her walking up the stairs one at a time, counting them.

"…Five" she muttered as she put her left foot on the stair, she placed her stick on the next step felt around then put her right foot on it and put her weight on it then pulled her left leg on it too "six" she muttered.

This went on for another two minutes, "Twelve" she muttered as she put her stick on the final stair, "Oh no" she muttered stopping.

"What is it?" asked John from downstairs (Sherlock had grown impatient and had made his way up the stairs pushing past her).

"John there is thirteen steps on this staircase" she called from above; she heard Sherlock scoffed from the other room as soon as she shouted.

"Why don't you pretend it the fourteenth stair" John mumbled from down below. Suzanne sighed but what choice did she have? She muttered to herself, "Fourteen" then she pulled herself up onto the top of the stairs, she had to remember that it was actually thirteen stairs not fourteen. But she was too tired. She barely waited for John, as she made her way around the flat carefully trying to find a place to curl up. John at last skipped his way up the stairs to link his way up the stairs and took her arm.

He lead the half asleep to the sofa, she immediately collapsed onto it and fell asleep. Suzanne hadn't noticed that the sofa had a pillow and a blanket on it, but John had he walked in on Sherlock in his Pyjamas and dressing gown reading a book (which happened to be upside down).

"You made a bed for her" John muttered to him.

Sherlock shrugged "what if I did? There's no hidden message so wipe that smirk off of your face."

John felt like he was in high school again and sauntered up to him, until he was in listening distance to hear: "you LIKE her."

"My dear Watson, how is myself putting a blanket and pillow on a lumpy sofa, have any hidden meaning for me LIKING her, as you so maturely called our friendship."

"I don't believe it." John muttered still smiling walking to the door, "the Sherlock Holmes, the first and only consulting detective, has finally fallen head over heels."

*10:30 Suzanne, Sherlock and John's sofa*

Suzanne opened her eyes, her senses kicked in a little, she was in a square room with a fire place on one side with ornaments that she couldn't quite see, a couple of paintings on the wall, two other sofas, a television to the corner, a table with various articles on them including her box full of stuff, the door obviously lead to a kitchen, she could verify a fridge but she was too tired to see any further.

It suddenly hit her that she hadn't changed for two days. She sat up stretching yawning; she put her hand onto the carpet just to check if the two men were sleeping. He felt John's uneasy snores as he dreamt of his days in the army. She concentrated hard to blank out, the sound and vibrations from John's room until she found Sherlock's. He wasn't snoring but his heavy breathing showed that he wasn't awake and the fact that the door was closed set her mind at rest.

She quickly changed into the new clothes, then sat back onto the rubbing her eyes. She felt the blanket under her, she managed to pull it over her and she began to sleep again, but her mind was still recording in the background (it did that sometimes, but only when she was really tired or her world had become upside down).

_**She heard nothing for a long time, just the sound of the rising London in the day. She heard down stairs Mrs Hudson, getting up, eating, washing, and then watch the television. Many hours passed before she heard John wake up. She knew it was him because she could hear him yawn and get ready for work at the hospital.**_

_**He shook her a little and called her name but her exhaustion that had taken over her made it impossible to anything but sleep. He at last gave up, and walked over to the door made a sandwich then left.**_

_**An hour and a half past and nothing much happened until Sherlock woke up, and then walk over to the wash room to freshen up.**_

_**She then lapsed into complete darkness. She remembered no more after that and she didn't wake up for a long time.**_

Sherlock loaded John's gun with six bullets then aimed and fire, after two shots Suzanne (who was directly underneath the wall he was shooting at) awoke her eyes wide. She obviously didn't remember because she screamed and made a run for it, except she got tangled in the blanket and fell onto her back.

Mrs Hudson was in the room just before Sherlock could look down at her releasing the full extent of his actions. Mrs Hudson went over to Suzanne and gave her a small pat, the shivering woman at last remembered, and allowed (even though not quite believing) Mrs Hudson to take her to her own kitchen to have a cup of tea.

Sherlock said nothing he threw the gun onto a seat then reached to where Suzanne had been sleeping, and picked up his violin then he sat down on the seat where he had thrown the gun, then began to resin the strings. He was frowning.

*11:15 Mrs Hudson's, Suzanne and Mrs Hudson*

Mrs Hudson gave Suzanne a cup of beetroot tea, and carried one patting her. 'Why is she being so nice to me?' Suzanne thought 'was it the same woman who had tried to get me out of her home?" she wondered.

"John told me what happened to you, and your situation at the moment" she said soothingly "I was stalked once by a dog."

Suzanne nodded gulping down the strange tasting tea; she liked the new Mrs Hudson. They began to chat about stuff (you know that sort of conversation where there's no importance to anything important yet you really enjoy talking). Every now and then they'd hear three more gunshots from upstairs (only these where done very quickly and together).

"Living with Sherlock is not the easiest thing in the world, but he-…sometimes he…Now there must be something good about him."

Another shot rang out through the house, as if Sherlock had heard her.

Suzanne smiled, "I know what you mean, and he can be aggressive, prejudice, obnoxious, ego the size of a sky scraper, full of his own self-importance." She smiled a little as she heard the gun being re-loaded and then shot again.

*03:45 Suzanne, Sherlock and John's sofa*

Suzanne was sitting cross legged on the sofa, meditating trying to get to the bottom of her thoughts on why those women were murdered. She had a small cup of Tasrikki sitting on her lap, which she took a sip of every now and then. She hadn't said a single word to Sherlock; spending most of the day trying to memorise the house by walking to every corner, to every cobweb until she could walk without her stick. Then she helped Mrs Hudson and listened to her, until she told herself that she had to think things through.

Sherlock had made no attempt to apologise about that morning, instead he was avoiding her. He put John's ID in the microwave, to see what would happen to John's DNA. He tried to get an alley cat to drink some spiked milk to see if Arsenic had any effect if mixed with antibiotics. It did not. He got rid of the body by seeing if he could sell it to a hot dog stand to see if they would take it. They did. And now he was seeing if he could make sausages made of liver.

Suzanne (she doubted Sherlock did because he didn't even notice her making the Tasrikki) heard John walk into the room (coming back from talking to Sarah on his mobile from his bedroom) and picked up the paper. "Hello want some Tasrikki?"

"What's that?"

"It's tea."

"Oh…Okay" muttered John it wasn't often when he was offered something genuine that wasn't one of Sherlock's dodgy experiments.

John and Suzanne sipped their tea companionably not sure what to say to each other, waiting to see what trouble Sherlock was getting himself into.

Their came a sudden knock on the door from downstairs, Suzanne listen it was a person she had never heard that sort of knock before. "Excuse me" she mumbled, standing up heading to the head of the stairs listening, she even crouched hand on the floor trying to see who was at the door. The door was suddenly opened; she panicked and walked back into the room. "There's a man with an umbrella at the door" she mouthed to John.

John smiled and squeezed her hand gently, "don't worry" he whispered…"This is going to be good".

"Sherlock" called a sudden pompous voice "I know you're in, the house keeper told me."

Sherlock suddenly closed the kitchen door with a bang to sit with John and Suzanne. John smiled as Mycroft Holmes made his way up the stairs to the three people. He was wearing his normal dark blue stripped business suit, with his black brief case and umbrella. Sherlock pretended to string his Violin a

"Who is he?" mumbled Suzanne to John. Before John could answer Mycroft was in the room looking at Sherlock with his smug smile.

"Sherlock" he said opening his arms into an embrace for Sherlock. Sherlock looked up at him sniffed then looked down.

"Oh I get it he is Sherlock's boyfriend" Suzanne muttered to John.

John snorted like a motorbike. "No" he manage to gasp "he's-he's-he's-"

"I'm Sherlock's brother" Mycroft said turning to her, "and who are you" he said bowing a little, "I can't believe Sherlock finally got his act together and is seeing such a lovely lady."

Suzanne smiled a little, almost giggling (but she stopped herself). Sherlock made a low murmur that could be distinguished as a growl if he hadn't stopped himself. Suzanne looked at him what was up with Sherlock. John too blinked but he knew (or he thought he knew) what was up with Sherlock's mood.

"I'm Suzanne."

"Archonte."

Mycroft sat in a seat opposite Sherlock, while Suzanne and John sat on the sofa side by side. Mycroft cleared his throat while Sherlock strung a sad note with his violin. The awkwardness of the situation was amazing, but neither brother seemed to have the nerve to break it first.

John clapped his hands together "right" he said "you want a cup of tea Mycroft?"

"Cheery."

"Must be serious to have you give in to alcohol while working" muttered Sherlock while fine tuning the instrument.

John ignored him and got up.

"Coffee for me thanks" muttered Sherlock as John disappeared into the kitchen.

Suzanne picked up her Tasrikki took a sip of it, and then put one hand on the sofa. In her mind she was scanning the man in front of her. 43, business man, somewhere in the government, tense towards Sherlock, Sherlock tense towards him, given himself airs and graces with a big ego (what a surprise), had problems with his teeth: one filling, three cavities in the past, not a big drinker, smoker, size eight feet (nice shoes), professional hairstyle, between girlfriends, slept with one last night.

She sat back listening, smirking to herself.

"You must help me Sherlock it is absolutely vital."

"Err…No."

"But Sherlock those documents are for the good of the nation!"

"Good of the nation, more like good of the war."

"*grumble* Sherlock…Please help me."

Sherlock looked at him, then turned away saying very loudly "I'd rather jump out of this window then help you." He then turned over his back to his brother. Mycroft looked away sighed then became composed then smiled back at him.

Suzanne blinked, how could Sherlock be so cold? She then smiled at Mycroft trying to thaw the coldness of the room. She couldn't tell whether Mycroft was even looking at her, but she felt a new wave of warmness come over the room.

Mycroft stood up "I better get going, pleasure meeting you-what was your name?"

"Suzanne" she said smiling at him.

He took her hand and kissed the top of it, then gave her a card (with an obvious ravishing smile to go with it). Sherlock turned over but did nothing, Mycroft went to the door he looked at Sherlock, but Sherlock simply glanced away.

Mycroft went down the stairs, went to the door waited, then walked out the door.

*04:00 Suzanne and Sherlock, Sitting room*

Suzanne looked down, then picked up her stick and thwacked Sherlock hard across the head. "OUCH" shouted Sherlock holding his head in pain. Suzanne carried on hitting him (sometimes missing his head and instead hitting his body).

"You heartless GIT!" she shouted standing up and hitting him some more. John ran in to see Sherlock trying to run for it but kept being knocked down by Suzanne's anger (and her stick). John at last grabbed her stick then wrenched it out of her hand.

"Suzanne what is it?" asked John managing to put Suzanne back down on the sofa.

Suzanne looked away, but she looked away "Sherlock's just being a horrid pig."

Sherlock stood up, stood there then walked to the door and went out. John sighed letting go of her and gave her back her stick, "he'll sulk until later tonight." He muttered putting on his jacket, he looked at this watch then started "damn I'm late for my shift!" and he ran to the door.

*01:10 Suzanne, on the sofa*

Suzanne was sleeping on the sofa; she had spent the rest of the day wiping the blood off of her stick, going on her computer to see if she could find any new information (she made notes but nothing that will explain the reason why women and not the gang members were killed). She had tried to make herself some scrambled eggs but she ended up scrambling her hand. She spent the rest of the day getting rid of the evidence, and trying to sooth her throbbing hand by rubbing water and cream into her hand and wrapping a bandage around her left hand.

She was sleeping before she felt someone come into the room and went in front of her. She immediately awoke her heart beating; she stared up at the person. The person bent down and put a tray onto the table then walked away into Sherlock's room.

As the blood stopped banging in her ears she began to get her senses back, she got her smell back first she realised that on the tray was a bacon sandwich, next came her hearing sense she heard the usual muttering and deep breathing Sherlock did when he slept. She then (because she was so hungry) reached over and began to eat. When she was finished she pulled herself up (after putting the tray and plate away) she made her way slowly into Sherlock's room. She kissed his cheek and whispered "sorry."

*10:10 Sherlock, on his mobile*

"Mycroft it's obvious; the documents were taken by the sectary….yes I'm sure...You could have figured it out yourself…*sigh* she is an cannabis smoker (judging by her jumpy attitude and twitchiness that you described) which is a dangerous and expensive habit and so she needed money…blah, blah, blah she took them for the money."

Sherlock switched off his phone rubbing his eyes whispering "how delightfully dull."

Suzanne was typing on her laptop, trying to write an essay on "how the body's tissue decreases after death". Sherlock stood in silence, thinking in deep silence. John had returned and was catching up on forty winks.

"You don't like your brother do you?" mumbled Suzanne while listening to her work again.

Sherlock looked at her one eyebrow raised. "Why do you say that?"

"Obvious, I don't need eyes to see the tension between you two, or the need to always have the upper half…What I don't get is why he still wants to be close you, yet you want to get as far away from him as possible."

Sherlock said nothing. He looked away, and then he began to walk away.

"I'm right aren't I? There is something under the surface that you two don't want to bring up or associate to."

Sherlock stopped he turned slowly and looked at her "how can you know that? How can you know anything? You can't see the world you can only assume. Why should I tell you anything?"

Suzanne blinked at the sharpness of Holmes words then responded slowly and calmly: "Mr Holmes I think you haven't gotten the fact that I'm not blind I just can't see." She then stood up looking straight at him "I can read you like a book, and everyone else…but I know that's not what you mean, you want me to piss off, to stop putting things together…stop being you. I scare you Mr Holmes. Don't I?"

Sherlock sniffed then sat down on the sofa next to her picking up her lap top and began to look through her files. "Yes you may read" she mumbled as she sat down. Sherlock was skimming through her files and documents not paying attention to her. She sighed then did a small smirk, "What can you sit on, lie on, and brush your teeth with?"

"What?"

"What can you sit on, lie on and brush your teeth with?"

"A brush reed in Africa, why?"

"…No it's a chair, a bed and a tooth brush."

"…"

"It shows that people over complicate things so they make things more complicated then need be."

"What is the relevance of that riddle then?"

"You can talk to me" she muttered. She picked up her laptop out of his grasp and shut it on him. She looked at him unflinchingly, Sherlock looked down he opened his mouth (even though for once in his life he didn't know what he was going to do or say).

"I-I'm not hiding anything" he muttered looking away (he didn't know what he was going to say but he changed his mind at the last moment).

"Oh forget it!" she muttered getting up.

Sherlock before he could stop himself muttered "I sold my heart so I could never break it."

She turned and looked at him then sat back down next to him, "you can never sell a heart; you can put it on your sleeve but never completely lose it Sherlock."

Sherlock looked her, and then looked straight forward smirking "you will make a great cicatrise my dear…but not a great detective."

"And you would make a great stony statue…but can never be a full detective" she retorted to him unflinchingly.

Sherlock did flinch at that he turned to her "I want to feel for people, I want to look at people and have the millions of feelings that John, Lestrade, even the ones Anderson and Sally seem to have. And nearly every night I ask why not me? Why not?"

She took his face in her hands and smiled, "well you're not all bad mate, true you're annoying, patronising, full of your own importance, non-feeling, cold-"

"This is supposed to help me right?"

"-But you are one of the men who has really stuck his thumb out for me, who has really looked after me…So I guess you do have a heart, because you do…care."

Sherlock looked at her…was she true? Could he feel for people? Was he feeling for her….? Sherlock looked back at her; she was looking straight ahead not looking at anything in particular. She was thinking too. They sat in silence, not awkward, but perfect silence.

John walked in yawning; he looked around at the two deadly silent detectives as they sat side by side on the sofa in deep thought. John blinked at the two, and then he skipped over to the kitchen to give them some space.

"Well" muttered Sherlock looking at her "that has to be the nicest compliment I've ever had" he said clearing his throat during the end.

John was looking at Sherlock…then looked at Suzanne….there was something there…But he didn't know what to call it.

They turned to each other looking at each other. Then there came a sudden knock on the door.

"I'll get it" called John "don't move I'll get it?"

"Subtle John" called Sherlock getting up off the sofa and walked away.

*10:50 John, The front door*

John walked over to the door heading towards the furious knocks, "I'm coming, coming" he muttered as he opened the front door, there stood a blond highlighted woman wearing a dark blue coat with a matching skirt, she held a blue umbrella in right gloved hand.

"Is this the house of Mr Sherlock Holmes?"

"Um…Yes"

John was suddenly thwacked by the woman by her umbrella "YOU AWFUL MAN!" she shrieked as she hit poor John over and over again with her umbrella. "YOU ARE NOT A MAN YOU'RE A DEMON!" she shrieked as she began to thump him with her fists.

*10:52 Suzanne and Sherlock, Sitting room*

Suzanne and Sherlock stayed in the room in an awkward silence. Suzanne's head snapped up she recognised that walk, that heavy breathing. She stood up trying to run to the room to stop John. She ended up tripping but Sherlock caught her.

"Careful" she snapped setting her right.

Suzanne wasn't listening she covered her face when she heard the words "YOU AWFUL MAN!" she grabbed her stick and ran down the stairs. She came just as she heard the final insult to the poor John Watson.

"SOPHIE!" She shrieked.

The woman turned "Suzanne!" she screamed tears going down her face and she grabbed her into a bear hug. "Don't ever do that to me again."

John was rubbing his sore head and Sherlock was hot on Suzanne's tail as she jumped down the stairs. John blinked trying to overcome his concoction.

*11:15 Suzanne, Sophie, John and Sherlock, sitting room*

"So" stated John as he put a bag of peas against his head "You're connected to Suzanne…How?"

"Where step sisters" beamed the woman.

"And why did you want to take out fifty bells out of me?" he asked blinking hard.

"Well Mr Sherlock Holmes, you took my sister away from university to a life of crime, blew up her flat, nearly killing her and taking off the good and narrow road."

"Um Sophie…Two problems: one they took me in when my flat blew up and was nearly executed, two John's not Sherlock…He's Sherlock" she said pointing to him.

"Ohhhhhh, sorry love, you know what they say: Suzanne is the smart one, I'm the pretty one!" she did her full hearty laugh. She looked at Sherlock smirking "I can see why you followed the yellow brick road Dorothy, since the wizard is a fit as he is."

Suzanne held her head in her hands from the total embarrassment. Sophie had to pay a visit why hadn't she phoned her? Why? "Sophie what do you want?" she asked already exasperated.

"Well, I'm here to tell you that I'm going to France this week so I'm asking you to follow me whenever you need to (though not yet because I've only got the one ticket). Also I wouldn't be able to go to a show tomorrow so I think you should go with your…friends." She handed Suzanne a leaflet hugged her again, and then got up. She smiled a little at John, and then gave Sherlock a very, very, very firm handshake.

Suzanne blinked down at the leaflet, thinking hard, so hard that she couldn't hear Sophie walk out the door and into the cab.

*11:18 Sophie, Taxi cab*

Sophie stood up straight grim and serious, her phone rung she immediately picked up:

"Hello,"

"Hello Miss Westwood, have you delivered the item" came the distorted robotic voice.

"Yes…Is Suzanne going to live?"

"*Chuckle*"

"Is Suzanne going to be unharmed?"

"…What do you think Miss Westwood?"

Sophie grimaced a tear going down her cheek…She did know…She also knew that she would never see those two men…

Alive…Again…

**HOW WAS THAT? SOMEONE REVIEW? HOW ABOUT ANYONE REVIEW IF YOU THINK THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE THEN THREE EPISODES ?**


	7. Red Herrings

Question Mark

**BEFORE I START PLEASE READ: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE! REVIEW! IT MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE FOR ME, I KNOW IT'S A LOT OF WORK BUT: !**

Chapter Seven: Red Herrings

*01:10am, Suzanne, Sofa*

Suzanne was sitting on the sofa, she held the leaflet in her hands it was advertising a show, "Les Mesrables" in the London Opera house, and on the back it said in marker "number 2 rows 3b". She knew why she was given it; it was obvious everyone in the gang went to a convention (most likely an opera) and take plans. She knew if she told Sherlock about the event he'd immediately go.

She wondered if Sophie was helping her find clues, or if she hadn't, maybe just maybe she was still stupid enough to think that-that-gang could help her. She believed in the latter, Sophie had a good heart but she loved the old Suzanne, the Suzanne who lived in that gang, breathed that life, and could never leave. But she had. She had left and she could never go back.

She had made her choice…she couldn't bring Sherlock or John into the huge obese that was her problems. She sighed and got up she picked up her stick and tape recorder and walked outside.

*01:15, Suzanne, Outside*

Suzanne pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she walked on London Bridge. She put her body against the cold stone, put her crossed arms onto the stone top and slipped her feet into the crescent shaped holes. She stared down at the water; she knew it was dangerous for her to be outside on her own with enemies at every corner. She stared at the water; she had forgotten what water had looked like. In her dark mind she could put shadows of the past together. Making imagines.

She hadn't been born blind.

She sighed it had been a while since she had confronted herself about her blindness. She pulled out her tape recorder, and put in a specific tape. The tape clicked into place as she closed the door to the tape player. She rewound the tape muttering to itself backward. Then she clicked the play button to set it on its way.

_Suzanne's tape: 1984, January, 23__rd_

"_Hello, this is Suzy…Hi_

_I am six, six and a half, I can read "Thomas the Tank Engine"…But not "Biggles Fly's West", Sophie has to read that to me. Sophie is the smartest girl in the world. She can skip…I can't skip…I doubt I ever will._

_I was told by my therapist James…He likes muffins. That I need to tape all of my feelings and how I'm coping…like a diary…only I can't read or write. I don't think I will ever be able to talk into this machine…_

Suzanne smiled to herself.

"_I want to be when I grow up is a scien-scien-scientif-tif-tific detective…Like step daddy. Malcolm. He is nice…I wish I met my really daddy though-_

Suzanne sighed and rewound through her six year old drivel…five beats then she pressed played, the old tape stretched and blurred, but the tough little tape stayed together and carried on.

"_-I don't know what life is going to be like while I'm blind…I want at times to kill myself, so I can't stay in the darkness any more…I wish that accident hadn't happened…The day I lost my sight was a couple of months ago…_

_I was very excited because it was my birthday and I was opening my presents when-"_

"Suzanne?" came a voice behind her.

She turned around to feel Sherlock coming towards her. She smirked a little when she realised he was wearing just his dressing gown and his cloth pyjamas. She looked back shaking her head a little at this she ejected the tape and put it carefully back in its case. She then turned back to Sherlock an eyebrow raised.

"I'm not going to jump Sherlock" she said smiling shaking her head a little, looking back.

Sherlock smirked a little, when he awoke from a fitful sleep; he went to make himself some coffee and a fresh nicotine patch. You could imagine the shock he got when he saw no breathing mound of blankets on the sofa. It was simple finding her…she left clues a mile wide. She took her coat indicating she was going somewhere cold. Took her stick so somewhere outside where she had never been before. And her tape recorder was gone too so somewhere silent and she could think carefully.

It was a work of a moment to consult his mental map until he came to a very, very, very, very good educated guess…and here he was.

Suzanne looked at him like she could really see him, an eyebrow raised. "If I didn't know any better, which I do…I'd say you care about whether I lived or died…" She smirked shaking her head looking back at the river Thames. Sherlock stood there smirking too trying to catch his breath, shaking his head at the whole situation.

"You might want to go home and change before you get some unwanted attention" she pointed out when a car drove by and beeped his horn at Sherlock. She then looked at him fully smiling broadly.

"What?" snapped Sherlock.

"You were worried" she said slyly looking down at him.

"Oh, come on!" he snapped looking away.

"So mister detective, let me get this straight you were just passing by in your dressing gown and pyjamas, while you were having your two in the morning sprint?"

Sherlock didn't answer but to humour her he managed to spit out a "yes."

Suzanne jumped off of the bridge and over to him, pocketing her tape recorder. "Really?"

Sherlock grinned at her but muttered "really."

She smiled looking away, "good."

Sherlock took his head away a tiny fraction a little confused, but not clueless. "How is that information…."good"?"

Suzanne sighed and brought herself as tall as she could make herself and said seriously "it's good because you can buy me breakfast…since you're so comfortable about you appearance."

She turned on her heel and made her way down the pavement. She didn't look back, she was starving that was true (it was quite difficult to work pieces of machinery not suite for her…also would you eat anything out of Sherlock's fridge?), but this was merely a test for Holmes; see if he did care or he didn't care two sticks for her.

*02:15 Suzanne (and Sherlock), Upper town London*

Suzanne smirked as she entered "The Singing Frog" restaurant (that was twenty four hours service), she walked in and sat down in at a table (she was quite familiar with the restaurant and the people who worked there so she could walk around quite confidently).

"Oh, Suzanne!" shouted a familiar voice, she smiled at the voice "Has your oven been replaced again?"

She chuckled, whenever she had a new oven it took her ages to get used to it, so she usually had to eat out. She shook her head, "try my whole flat" she called back.

"Yikes! So where are you living…Listen mate we have an important dress code here!"

Suzanne chuckled 'he didn't' she thought, Sherlock sat in front of her, 'he did' she concluded. She smirked as she heard him sit in front of her.

"Suzanne is this guy with you?"

"Yeah, he's a nutter who asked me for a second date" Suzanne joked as she ran her hand down the page of the menu.

Sherlock sat there; he knew he should be feeling total embarrassment and humiliation…but surprisingly he found himself smiling at this.

"Do you want to eat?" she asked looking up at him.

Sherlock didn't need to look at the damn thing because he memorised but he decided to take the menu anyway.

The waiter at last came round and asked them what they would have: Sherlock sighed but decided to have something not to leave her out so he said he'd just have some toast, Suzanne after a while said she'd have nothing.

Sherlock turned to her a little surprised "…Buying you breakfast…?" he asked an eyebrow rose.

Suzanne turned to him "hmmm? Oh I never eat in front of people if I can help it, call me very sensitive" she smirked at him then looked down at the table a slight frown on her forehead staring into space. She was thinking hard her mind making a map on what the consequences could be if she told them about tomorrow night's meeting. No she couldn't tell them.

Sherlock too was staring into space trying to figure out why she had left the house at such a late time and why she had asked him to a restaurant where she wouldn't eat at.

It was the waiter that broke the awkwardness by setting the toast down. "Look at you too like too pees in a pod…soul mates".

Suzanne smiled but Sherlock stiffened a little and muttered "she's my sister", Suzanne looked up a little but then looked back down. But she had a feeling in her chest like her heart was being replaced with concrete. The waiter nodded a little embarrassed, asked if they'd like a drink but getting no answer he left. Sherlock took a bite out of the toast but found he wasn't hungry; he pushed it in front of her. "Come on I'm not hungry", Suzanne didn't look up and blanked him.

She didn't really want to talk to him….though she didn't know why.

Ten minutes later and not a word had been said between them, Sherlock cleared his throat: "Suzanne I've been trying to put some things together and I would to tell you I'm confused."

Suzanne took out her tape recorder and pressed record "say that again that's rare" she said smiling.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Sherlock sighed but then spoke into the machine: "I'm confused."

Suzanne chuckled and put her tape recorder back into her pocket and held her head in her hands, "what are you confused about?" she asked slowly but quietly beckoning confidence out of Sherlock.

Sherlock found himself leaning forward and said "I want to know what your game is."

Suzanne sat back a little an eyebrow raised "game?"

"Yes…Why are you so mysterious…You tell us "everything" yet you and I both know you are barely scratching the surface of your past."

"Go on."

"Well…I think you are hiding something from us, from yourself too and you won't admit it to anyone because of your shame."

"Yes Christ your good."

"Really?"

"No!"

"Suzanne. You can't keep changing the subject or stopping the conversation just because you are uncomfortable we need to know the truth."

"I know, I've learned the error of my ways. And that mister Holmes is the end of this personal interview" she concluded sitting back a little.

Sherlock put his head in his right hand covering his eyes then looked at her. She was looking down at her hands that were on the table. Sherlock looked at her "what are you scared of Suzanne?"

She looked up at him; her large unfocused grey eyes flickered over his face, like she was trying to see, to see if he was being sincerer. She looked down again frustrated by her own disability of not ever being sure of anyone's honesty anymore. Sherlock looked at her trying to read her; her long fringe had gone over her eyes, her face seemed to hold an inner sadness that she had kept away for so long, her arms where crossed her right hand on her left shoulder (where her tattoo was).

"Listen" Sherlock said sitting forward "I know-and I know you know-that I'm not the easiest person to open up to…then I will do Everything in my power to help you…and that's a promise."

Suzanne didn't react she was still looking down at the table, until Sherlock took her chin in his right forcing her to look up.

"Now…" he said calmly and slowly "tell me everything you know…"

She looked at him like she could see him she then turned her expression to a calm one and she had a small smile on her face as she looked at him straight in the eye. She cleared her throat and put her tape recorder into his hand then she stood up (but not before taking a bit out of the toast). "Come on" she ordered as she dropped a five pound note onto the table, "I'll tell you everything."

She began to walk with her stick Sherlock following behind her, she led him back to the river where she sat down "Sherlock" she said not looking at him "I don't know anything about the murders I swear…at first I thought it was sex that just went wrong…but now I think something is happening behind the scenes, these murders are too…planned, like some nut is behind the scenes and controlling the whole set up of events."

Sherlock said nothing but sat down next to her "I have a theory…My theory is that: your right some "nut" is behind this but…there's a pattern the women are all engaged or have a family…I think there all connected to the gang in some way…like you."

Suzanne looked down "that is possible…I don't know that many people and there's no way of finding out who belongs to the gang…" she turned silent as she began to consider her original problem: should she tell Sherlock about the gathering. Sherlock thankfully got impatient and decided to question her about that later.

"Why did you give me this?" he asked looking down at her tape recorder.

"You wanted answers so…" she nodded to her recorder.

Sherlock looked at it then pressed play, the old tape jigged a little but it managed to carry on:

_It was my sixth birthday and I was very excited. Mummy had made a cake all for me. And my brothers and sister. And Malcolm and herself. I had a lot of gifts. A book. Two shoes. A dress. And a tube of smarites. _

_Then Suzanne took a pause, like she wanted to just stop the proceedings. But at last she carried on:_

_Then…I was playing with my shoes when…there was a huge bang! I was flung forward and someone put there foot on my face. I couldn't hear apart from a ringing in my ears…and…and my eyes…They broke…Mummy said afterward some naughty people killed my second brother and made me blind and now we have to move to France and I don't like it._

The Suzanne on the tape began to cry, he waited to see if she would stop but the present Suzanne took the tape recorder and turned it off. They sat in silence not looking at each other. Sherlock looked at her "Was it the black gang that did that to you?"

She shook her head "no it wasn't…it was the other gang the red gang." Sherlock nodded the other gang, he had forgotten about them but they were also part of the puzzle they had fallen upon.

"Is that why you joined?"

"Yeah I suppose…"

"Don't suppose tell me."

"Yeah…I did because of that."

Sherlock nodded, he thought for a while "so I was right."

"About what?"

"About, you had two biological brothers."

"When did you-"

"When we met."

"Oh. Oh yes."

Sherlock looked at her but she was smiling remembering how she had in another life time showed the great consulting detective. Back then she had tried everything in her power to prove to the world (especially Sherlock) that just because of her blindness she wasn't useless or helpless.

She had seemed to have stopped. Maybe she had finally accepted herself like Sherlock had, or maybe she had relaxed around him and her new surroundings. She didn't know she sat there next to the consulting detective; she could feel his warmth beside her and hear his breathing; she didn't know what to feel her insides had become so twisted up inside, at times she could strangle the detective others she could throw her arms around him.

Damn it she wasn't sixteen!

She shook herself a little, she turned to look at Sherlock, he was still looking forward…she wondered why he was taking so long computing this, she was a little confused not to mention worried. 'What was the effect of him knowing how I became blind?' She wished now more than ever she could see.

Then the strangest thing happened she felt a hand go on hers; she looked down at it wide eyed was Sherlock trying to comfort her, or trying to be romantic (in a nine year old way)? Then she felt him lift her hand up slowly so he could take her arm and stood her up.

They walked in silence. Suzanne was walking in a trance with him. She was having trouble believing that this even was Sherlock (she knew it was because of the obvious, breathing, smell and not to mention that scratchy coat), had his character changed overnight? Or had she ushered it out?

They at last stopped she was still in a daze so she had no idea where she was.

"Suzanne," muttered Sherlock (who was a little too close now for comfort) "we're back you can let go now."

She blinked at let go, what was wrong with her? She shook herself one last time and began to head up the steps after him; she heard voices on the other side of the door.

"Sherlock…" she murmured but it was too late he had already entered.

She had no choice but to follow.

*03:49am Suzanne, 221B*

Suzanne stood in the door way and was welcomed by a pair of hand cuffs and Lestrade, Anderson, Sally, John and load of others.

"What are you doing?" snapped Sherlock sternly grabbing hold of Anderson.

Lestrade was sitting on a sofa and holding the leaflet Suzanne had tried to hide, "we came round because Wayne Miles wants us to take her back into questioning, then we found she's been hiding valuable leads so we're arresting her because she held evidence" he shouted.

Sherlock was standing in front of Lestrade both of them staring daggers.

"I'm not letting you take her" he hissed.

"Sherlock" muttered John taking his arm, "we don't have a choice, and we don't know which side she's on."

Sherlock shook John off glaring at him, "you can't take her" he hissed "she will end up like the other victim in your "care" she'll be slaughtered."

"She should of thought of that before she lied" snapped Anderson.

"You're a little low on the IQ list to speak in my presence" snapped Sherlock.

"ENOUGH!" shouted John; he looked around at the audience of faces "let's see this leaflet", he said holding out his hand.

John skimmed through it and Sherlock who was looking over his shoulder. Suzanne held her breath.

At last after a long minute Sherlock looked up "well I admit it's not going to be easy."

"A whole unit of police force will never be able to handle one of their trained hunters" Suzanne suddenly cut in.

"What do you mean?" asked Lestrade turning to her.

She glared at everyone, maybe if she could scare them they might not go. She rolled up her right sleeve to show her tattoo, "do you see this…they did it to me it's an identification mark for them to find me. And when I can be outside the gang."

"What's to stop you?" sneered Anderson who was still holding her arms.

"There hunters: generals in the gang whose sole purpose to keep members in and to intimidate them into staying. I don't even think even you John can take one on."

"Some must want to leave."

"If you try…you're taken to the leader for punishment. The last person who tried to leave his wife was found days later with her eyes gouged out. He was lucky not to have anything else done to him."

"So there are some who can be persuaded to help us…" a police man muttered to himself.

"I suppose…but you'll never get them to reveal themselves to you" Suzanne said shaking her head.

"Unless we go under cover John and me to see if we could find more information" Sherlock said turning the leaflet over.

"I don't like this idea of yours Sherlock" Suzanne muttered desperately.

"Suzanne I want you to stay in Baker Street, they will recognise you and it could be dangerous for you."

Suzanne's hands became un-cuffed she looked straight at Sherlock her eyes full of sadness, "I've been in one of these psychotic gangs and I'm telling you your making a huge mistake and this could make you all killed."

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	8. Black Tie

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Chapter Eight: Black Tie

*09:10PM, Suzanne, waiting on Sherlock's sofa*

Suzanne was sitting on the sofa utter sadness on her head and shoulders. She sat with her legs crossed and her arms crossed she was so tense. She undid her legs and swung them but that didn't make any difference. What was she going to do for all of those hours waiting? She at last resolved to biting her nails until they bled.

John and Sherlock were changing into their tuxedos (with the help of Mycroft) and then leaving as soon as possible. Suzanne had refused to tell them a thing about the proceedings of a meeting and made her feelings very clear she was NOT helping them.

She had been let off with a caution by the police; even though she would have preferred a cell that in itself will be something to do. Suzanne heard John coming out of his room with his tuxedo that was a little too tight. John seemed to be as nervous as she was, and was forever fussing over his bow tie, suit, trousers, coat and shoes.

John nervously re-tied his bow tie "How do I look?" he asked standing in front of her.

"Like Alice Cooper" she stated seriously.

John nearly chocked and looked down at himself, but then he saw Suzanne wave a hand in front of her face and he realised how foolish he had been.

Sherlock came out of the kitchen where he kept his shoes (in the fridge but don't ask it's a long story) and was tying his bow tie (which he had kept in the microwave, but don't ask it's an even longer story). Sherlock hadn't said a word to Suzanne after the police left; he had busied himself with getting the suits, shoes and bows for himself and John.

Suzanne had tried to talk to him but she was always rewarded with the same silence so now she had shut up.

As the last ten minutes ticked by, John tried to talk through the workings of the television, microwave, what was in the fridge and it-would-be-okay-if-she-had-a-nap-in-one-of-their-rooms. Suzanne blanked him completely but had the manners at the end to say thank you.

At last the cab came and beeped his horn for them to get a move on.

"Come on John" Sherlock said walking to the door.

John nodded and clambered off of the sofa where he was sitting next to Suzanne.

"Sherlock" said Suzanne.

Sherlock turned to look at her.

"Please…"

Sherlock walked out the door. Leaving Suzanne on her own.

*09:25pm Sherlock and John in the cab*

"Do you think that was the right thing to do Sherlock?" asked John.

Sherlock turned to look at him "What do you mean?"

"She was reaching out to you…and you threw it back in her face….I think she likes you."

Sherlock looked at John "John listen I'm married to my work, I don't want to get tied down to a girlfriend, wife, boyfriend-. I just DON'T! She is a nice girl…"

"Nice GIRL, she'll never see twenty again."

"Your powers of persuasion is frightening John."

"All I'm saying is she…just fits with you…she is pretty…she can put you in your place…she is smart…"

"And dependant, whiney, stubborn, controlling, big headed, blind,-"

"Like someone else I know. Listen Sherlock if you can get used to me, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade…who cares surly you can get used to her if you like her….and you do like her…don't you?"

Sherlock said nothing he kept stonily looking forward. He sniffed and refused to look at neither John nor the driver.

*09:48 Sherlock and John, the black opera pearl*

Sherlock and John where still standing in a stubborn silence as they came into the waited in the depressingly long line. Many of the other guests were wearing black tie with a wine ore cherry glass in their hands as they waited in line.

"We might be a while" muttered John looking around at the long cue.

Sherlock said nothing.

At last thirty five brain numbing line waiting they at last came to the desk where an old lady with five double chins (not from five hundred smiles), she had black hair tied messily into a bun, was wearing a loose green dress red lipstick and a load of frown lines (defiantly from five hundred frowns).

John gave the old hag a smile "two tickets to see "Les Misrables" please."

The woman didn't even look at the computer she just mumbled like a zombie: "reservations."

"Um…well we don't _have_ reservations."

"NO RESERVATIONS! NO! TICKETS!" she screamed at the two men.

John and Sherlock walked towards the door, "well that went well" muttered John.

"Maybe it's for the best" muttered Sherlock opening the door to get a cab.

"Oh Mister Holmes you give up way too easily" said a familiar voice behind the two men.

The two men turned to see Suzanne holding her stick and had a smile on her face. She was wearing her ordinary green coat but underneath was a black gown half of her red/brown hair tied into a bun and the lower half was let down which went way past her shoulders.

The two men gaped at her "What the hell are you doing here?" asked Sherlock.

Suzanne looked down (like she could see the floor), "I figured you wouldn't go beyond the front desk so I thought I'd help you out."

She turned on her heel and walked towards the desk to the cranky old woman the two men following her. She stood there smiling and said "Three tickets to "Les Misrables" please" she added a smile.

"I told the other men no reservations no tickets."

Suzanne gave her old you-can-do-it grin, but seeing this was not working she took off her coat showing her tattoo (A/N my sister has brought this up about my lack of detail about the design of the tattoo =^^=, it is a little circle with a tiny 2 inside it…sorry for the mix up)

"I'm here on business to listen to the "play" so you better give me the tickets" she said her voice suddenly hard and robotic.

The woman gulped like a fish at this "b-b-b-ut the two men…"

"My eyes to the stage, not to mention my guide dogs" she said her tone never changing.

"Well…this is most irregular but with such a…um…_legal _persuasion I can't see why not" she shakily gave Suzanne the ticket.

Suzanne walked back to the two gapping men and gave them their tickets. She then walked to the chair door waiting for them to follow her. She felt both of her arms taken and led to a couple of chairs in a private box. She felt horrible she always did when she did something like this to a person. She had been bullied enough in her life to put her off for life.

Sherlock, John and Suzanne sat in their seats. Sherlock again because of Suzanne, mind was all over the place…he barely noticed Suzanne rooting under her chair for something.

"What are you doing?" asked John looking at her an eyebrow raised looking at her actions.

Suzanne appeared with three pairs of tiny head phones, she gave one to John and one to Sherlock. Suzanne and John put theirs in right away whereas Sherlock didn't notice so she just laid it on his arm and waited for him to compute.

The lights began to dim as the music from the orchestra boomed into the house of people; there was little movement as the actors started their singing.

Sherlock at last snapped into attention and put on the head phones to hear the conversation:

"_Welcome brothers to our meeting, I number four will be your host-"_

"_Where's number three, two or one."_

"_Number three has well…been forced into "retirement", number two is on the most wanted list and number one because of the police at every door is in hiding at base 36."_

"_Anyway brothers we are in a predicament, those bastards in the red gang is still stealing our work so I suggest that number 34, 67, 138 and 486 takes "out" a couple."_

"_But they *gulp* haven't raised their hand to us yet it's all been us every last stinkin' killin'. The red gang murders, the bitches and now the police that was all us…why? and what about the police force and that Mr Homes or whatever his name is, is still prying and trying to find us. I'm not working if they are."_

"_Growl…seventy five! We have our ways on disposing of rats who sniffing where they shouldn't sniff it will start tonight…."_

"_Shouldn't we *chuckle* "Silence" him like we "silenced" all of those bitches."_

John gripped Suzanne's arm: new information. John had to take a chance.

"_**Derrr "Silenced" wot dus dat meen?"**_ John said trying to impersonate a gang member.

Suzanne and Sherlock grabbed his lips but too late, but thank god John's calculated risk added up because the gang seemed used to this comment.

"_Number forty seven you Idiot! We are killing their mothers, sisters, daughters, girlfriends, wives whatever because the boss has ordered the punishment for leaving the group or starting the riot as the -"_

"_Number four…Number forty seven has told us he won't be attending the meeting…."_

There was a silence…suddenly the three's ear pierce began to make an ear shattering call call, making all of the detective grab their ears, Sherlock grabbed both of their shoulders and ducked under to stop them getting noticed. The lights gave in because of the sound making the audience all turn to them.

"We have to go" Sherlock muttered crawling towards the door.

*10:18pm. Sherlock, John and Suzanne, opera house*

They nearly ran for the exit, past the chairs door, past the ticket office, past the bar, nearly to the only exit but when only five feet away Suzanne stopped them.

"What is it" asked John as she made them run behind a pillar.

"Look man in front, class A luger up his wrist with various knives stuck to his body, he is patrolling."

Sherlock and John stared at the man he was "waiting" at the door never leaving its side. Suddenly two men in black tuxedos ran over to him and whispered something in his ear then all three stood in front of the door looking for someone leaving who wasn't one of them.

The three sneaked away, when they were safely hidden behind a screen of pictures and posters, before they began to talk.

"Sherlock," whispered John "how are we going to get out of this?"

Sherlock was silent for a moment, then he looked up, "One exit is blocked but there's always more than one…the stage exit! John you have to sneak to the stage exit and see if that is being guarded. Suzanne I want you to stay here and I-"

"Will be staying here too" interrupted Suzanne crossing her arms.

"No I'll try to get back in there and get more information."

"Yeah and get your head blown off in the proceedings you've got "death" written all over your head Sherlock. They'll recognise you before you can mingle."

John looked at them both then sighed "she's right Sherlock, wait a while for everything to calm down a little. Then you can help find some information but now they'll be on their guard so it'll be pointless."

John nodded then ran off toward the corridors.

*10:32pm Sherlock and Suzanne behind the screen*

Sherlock and Suzanne sat on the polished floor. Sherlock was bored, and crabby, and fed up. He was mad at Suzanne for making him stay in the safety of the screen. He took his mobile out and began to search the web for any more details brought up tonight like the how high the body count of women was now: fifty two the murders where slowing down a little but that didn't mean they were stopping anytime soon.

Suzanne was fiddling with her dress. She smiled a little when the background music changed to a slow tempo, she looked up shaking her head a little: someone up their really hated her. She sighed then slyly said:

"It's a good thing I did stop you from investigating further…"

Sherlock swallowed hook line and sinker "Why?" he said not looking up.

"You wouldn't have been able to blend in."

"The art of disguise is to become invisible in full view."

"Yes I'm sure your friends at the police station gave you a few pointers on ballroom dancing."

"Why do I need to know dancing?"

"Because in the interval everyone goes into a huge ballroom and dances."

Sherlock looked away he suddenly knew her game…well he'd show her. He looked around there was a fair sized gape between the screen and the wall behind them. He smirked then at last said:

"You assume I don't…"dance"."

Suzanne looked at him a little shocked but pressed on never the less: "and do you?"

Sherlock put his face very close to hers and whispered "yes". Then turned back to his mobile.

She nodded then suddenly held out her hand to him "come on" she said almost seductively "the world doesn't end if Sherlock Holmes dances."

Sherlock looked at her then flipped off his phone he took her hand and they both stood. She took his hand and put her hand on his shoulder. Sherlock took her hand and (slowly) put his hand on her waist they began to do a slow waltz together.

Suzanne led to begin with but because she couldn't see her feet, she stepped on his and he stepped on hers. At last Suzanne got a little sick of that and put her feet over his. Suzanne then hesitantly put her arms around his neck. She then lost all courage of course and looked down at her feet pretending to herself she could see him.

Sherlock was looking straight at her his mind kept coming to the obvious question: "what am I doing?" But every time he tried to uncurl his hand from around her waist he found he couldn't do it he had to distract himself.

"Why did you come to the opera house?"

"I knew you'd wouldn't get past the front desk."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I wanted you…and John to be safe. I didn't want to stop the clues or your investigation Holmes. And then I realised you…and John had done so much for me the least thing I could do was to return the favour."

"You didn't have to do that I…and John liked you being at 221B it was nice…as John has often said."

"I also thought that John and you couldn't keep out of trouble so I felt I had to help…Also Sherlock a little bird told me to help…"

"…Mrs Hudson…?"

"…Yes…" She said nothing biting her lip.

Sherlock looked at her his eye brow raised the little voice in the back of his mind was screaming to ask her further but for the first time in his life he found himself ignoring it and asking: "Where did you get the dress?"

"Sarah….Told her I was on a date with you…and John of course."

"Well as long as I get to see you wear a dress then I suppose that's okay with me."

"You pervert!"

"You never wear dresses so I…and John have often wondered why not….I know because you have a slight burn mark just where your trousers start and…blah, blah, blah, blah…"

"I like to watch you dance anyway" she said a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

Suzanne looked down smiling a little, Sherlock smiled, not his grin, not his smirk….but a smile. He rested his forehead against hers he heard a small laugh came from both of their lips as they both stopped; she smiled a little too closing her eyes.

Sherlock's phone suddenly rang he jumped, he immediately stepped away blushing furiously he didn't even know who was on the phone but he began to walk back wards away from the screen. Suzanne stood there unsure on what Sherlock was doing.

"I've….I've got to get this" he said gulping down his words down his throat. He began to run for cover.

Suzanne looked down a little then slide down the wall her heart beating fast she felt herself deflating like a balloon with no air left in it. Why did she feel like this….unless she….no! Someone up there was playing a cruel joke on her she couldn't….like Sherlock…..?

*10:59 Sherlock, On his phone*

"John?"

"What took you?"

"John I was-wait…what's that sound in the background?"

The sound was a slow tick like a clock only more mechanical and louder. Sherlock's heart stopped, he began to run.

"Where are you!" he shouted down the phone (he didn't care if people around him where staring at him).

"Somewhere dark…I'm tied to a chair my phones on my lap….Sherlock someone came behind me and hit me on the back of my head…Sherlock the same thing could happen to you…"

Sherlock stopped…Suzanne what if they…? No he had to find John…he had to help him first.

Sherlock began to run again opening doors frantically trying to see if John was there. All the time he tried to coax John into giving him details, he at last came to a huge prop storage cupboard by the stage exit…the only other logical place he could be.

He managed to push himself into the dark cupboard; at last he squeezed in and turned on the lights. He saw immediately a chair with a limp John sitting on. Sherlock ran over to him and tried to undo the metal ropes that bound the doctor's hands tightly behind the chair.

Sherlock turned to John's front and slapped his hand hard to try to awaken his friend. The doctor at last looked up; he had a trickle of blood running down his forehead and a number of bruises on his head. His eyes kept going out of focus. At last Sherlock untwined the last of the rope and pulled John to his feet.

Suddenly he was hit hard in the back of the head with a metal pole.

*? Sherlock, prop's storage cupboard*

Sherlock groaned as he awoke, he blinked hard three times. In front of him was John unconscious. Now he was the one tied to the chair, he wriggled his wrists but they were bound tightly together around the chair's back.

It was the snarl that made him turn around…it was the pit ball that made him wish he hadn't. A huge monster of a dog stood in front of him. It was a cross breed between a pit ball and a Rottweiler, it sat there its collar attached to a firm metal chain, the dog sat there growling….It was waiting for something.

Sherlock moved his foot a little, the dog's shallow eyes following Sherlock's every move. Sherlock bent down as low as he could and whispered to the unconscious John: "John….wake up now…" That's when it happened.

The dog's body tightened as a low whistle rang through the air…the warning whistle for the next part of the play….fifteen minutes until the next one and last one. Sherlock struggled his wrists he couldn't undo the piece of metal that had bounded his wrists. He had to call for help he stretched his foot out to grab John's phone (which was lying next to John). He put his foot on it then slowly pulled it towards him; he then flipped into onto the top of his shoe, and slowly raised it out his left knee. He bent his head down and scooped it up in his mouth and swung it down his hand, which there he pressed the screen at a number.

The phone dialled and another in the room began to call, damn it! It was his own number. He slouched a little but he pressed the red telephone to call off. He felt the buttons and closed his eyes. He put his thumb on the buttons to see if he could type the right number now what was it?

0…6...4, 8, 2…8, 3 4…5….4

He pressed the green phone he hoped he got the right number.

*11:25 Suzanne, behind the screen*

Suzanne put her hands together and whispered "Sherlock…I've think I've gained feelings for…" she shook her head: too rushed, she thought "Sherlock you know that some days you act like you hate someone but in fact you like them…even though you don't show them any…*sigh*." What was she? Molly?

…

"I guess the writing is on the wall" she muttered. She slumped down even lower against the wall, she could write him a letter…only she couldn't write very well. "Pathetic…" she mumbled looking down at her lap. Her phone suddenly rang.

"Hello…" she said still in total sadness.

"Suzanne" came a faint voice.

Suzanne squinted a little what where they saying? "Who is this?"

"Su-nn-! I'm -rlo-! She-k!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" she shouted down the phone "WHO IS THIS?"

There where loads of grunts off the other end then a sudden crash ripped through the air a lot more grunting as well. Suzanne wrinkled her nose and hung up. She sat there and sighed a little thinking back to her dilemma.

Her phone rang again. She rolled her eyes and sighing picked it up.

"Hello?-"

"NOW CAN YOU BLOODY HEAR ME!"

Suzanne grabbed her ears "ouch!" she said "Sherlock your reason better be metamorphicily good or else I'll-"

"Shut up! There's a dog in front of us ready to kill John and I in seven minutes! We're both tied up in a prop storage cupboard. You need to get here and untie me!"

Suzanne was up and running five seconds into his speech. Her damn dress was in the way. Why did she feel the need to wear a dress and not jeans? Damn her need to impress Sherlock! She still had her phone pressed to her ear she kept running into doors and people.

She at last stopped panting for breath, she couldn't get there. Not in time anyway. She put the phone to her ear; she had to coax Sherlock into helping her.

"Sherlock calm down, now I can help you I know most of the dogs now describe him."

Sherlock (who had rocked his chair so it fell on the floor) turned his head slightly to look at the snarling dog: it was waiting.

"It's black."

"Yep, that narrows it down."

"It's a Pit ball and Rottweiler mix."

"Narrows it down" Suzanne muttered opening doors to see if they were inside this 'props storage cupboard'.

"It's female."

"Narrows it down."

"It's angry."

"Narrows it down."

"It stinks of rain and mud."

"Narrows it down."

"It reacted to the bell, and it will in three minutes time!"

"Yes! That really does narrow it down!" she shrieked as the bell went in the background "Call her Honey and scratch her left ear!"

Sherlock turned to see the dog running towards him "HONEY!" he shouted.

The dog stopped her tail wagging she waited her head and body bouncing, a whistle came from behind her from the shadows, and the dog ran off into them. Clapping began in the background Sherlock looked around as three men in tuxedos (one with the dog leash in his hand) walked out of the shadows. The middle man wore a porkpie hat and sunglass with a dark tan skin, the one to his left was holding the dog and had a distinctive limp which he only have acquired in Iraq. The right one had white skin which was almost custard yellow with spots all over his face. They were both hunters.

The middle one who was clapping stopped and grinned at Sherlock and the still unconscious John. "Hello Sherlock I see you took our bate and came to our humble meeting, sorry about your treatment but you came at such a poor time for us."

Sherlock growled as he tried to stand again but the chair was heavy and couldn't stand on its own again. John started to groan as he started to grow conscious again, the three men sniggered.

"Well listen here Mr Holmes we have a message from number one it is: "F**k off, mind your own business like everyone else in the police and leave the police force."

"And if I don't I'll get killed, yes?"

"Yes" smirked the sunglasses thug.

The one with the custard skin took out a grenade and aimed it. Sherlock laid there coolly, if they wanted to kill him then they would have, something was stopping them. He then smirked saying with it:

"Number one wants to do the honours of killing me…Doesn't he?"

One grunted but said nothing.

"Why?"

"Let's just say he is a perfectionist" smirked the one with Honey.

Both of the men turned to him the middle one snatched the grenade from custard skin and shot him.

There was a silence.

The silence was at last broken. It was broken by the door opening. Sherlock's heart immediately sunk when he heard a walking stick being swung on the ground. Then there came the familiar voice:

"Sherlock are you in here?"

She took five steps in before she stopped wondering what was going on. She immediately stopped when she felt the two thugs and the dead body. Suzanne stayed in the shadows hoping they hadn't heard her. They had.

"So Suzanne, or number two as I should call you, you're in another gang I see."

"Arthur" she said her old forceful tone back again.

"You haven't changed a bit in the last three weeks."

"Like wise…" She took three steps forward so she was in front of both John and Sherlock.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She said nothing as she held her arms out her body a protective wall in front of the two men.

"Look at you, you traitor, you left us for two old men who can barely fight off a dog without help."

"Yeah and if you have any brain cells you should join me" she snarled at them.

"If you don't shut up I'll kill you" he snarled loading his gun.

"I'm going to scream. I'm going to get the authorities."

"Not a sound out you. Or else I'll shoot" said glasses holding his grenade and aiming at her chest.

"I will if you don't scram."

The three stood there glaring at each other seeing who would back down and who would stay. The custard skin thug ran for it (obviously to get reinforcements).

"Just the two of us Suzanne…If you don't move I'll shoot you."

She smirked and shook her head not moving an inch.

"What if I shoot him?" Arthur smiled aiming his gun at Sherlock.

Suzanne growled a little then sighed and walked over to the right, Arthurs gun back on her.

"Well, well, well, Number 2, Suzanne M-"

"Don't say that name" she snapped her grey eyes suddenly viciously red.

(Sherlock all the time through this was trying to get up. John was keeping absolutely still so the gun men won't feel the urge to shot him.)

Arthur began to walk backwards towards the door he then smiled remembering something: "Oh yes number one told me to tell you something it is: catch you later. Oh and he also told me to give you this."

Arthur turned around quickly and shot Suzanne.

Sherlock and John both shouted "Noooooo!" as Suzanne fell with a crash.

"Chow, number two" snarled Arthur flipping his sunglasses down before walking out the door.

Sherlock began to struggle. "GET ME OUT OF THIS" he shouted at John as he shook and struggled against the ropes "I SAID GET ME OUT OF THIS THING NOW!"

John managed to pull his limp body over to Sherlock and unravel the metal. Sherlock jumped up pushing John out the way and ran over to Suzanne (who was in the shadows). Sherlock felt tears going down his face as he ran towards her body, it was only when he got closer did he see (with much relief) she was breathing.

Suzanne blinked and sat up nursing her head. Sherlock blinked at her: she had been shot in the left arm, not the chest as he first feared and she seemed to have just collapsed because of the shock of being shot.

Sherlock took her left arm "are you alright?" he asked looking at it "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" he shouted looking at her face.

"Sherlock, seriously I'm-"

"Suzanne how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Sherlock how-?"

"Did he shoot you anywhere else?"

"Sherlock I need-"

"Are you feeling queasy?"

"Sherlock LISTEN I need to-"

"Is water flushing to the surface" he said grabbing her face.

Suzanne sighed and grabbed his lips with hand, "I really like you Sherlock but I need a little silence. And check on John!" she snapped letting go of him. She then looked at her wound, Sherlock didn't move, he watched as she slipped her finger and thumb into the wound and fished out a bullet.

"Have you broken your arm or muscle tissue?"

"Sherlock since I was eight I have had to do this. It'll take more than a bullet to stop me" she said looking at him smiling.

He smiled back a little. "I suppose your right" he said sitting back breathing hard. "Did I over react?"

"Yes…But it was very sweet of you Sherlock" she said trying to hide her blush by wrapping up her wound with a piece of material.

"By the way…" Sherlock muttered looking forward also embarrassed "…Thank you."

She turned to look at him a little shocked "…Your welcome."

They suddenly heard shouting from police officers as he banged on doors shouting for them (which totally ruined the mood).

"You called the police" Sherlock said a small smile and a raised eyebrow on his face.

"Yes I did" Suzanne smiled looking up from her gunshot wound "You're telling me you've never done that?"

Sherlock smiled shaking his head then said "you know it's weird but I never had the chance."

John groaned at the other end of the room as he struggled to remain conscious. Sherlock and Suzanne both looked at each other then it clicked "John!" they said together remembering he was barely conscious and bleeding from a head wound.

*12:03pm Suzanne, Sherlock and John, Sherlock's living room*

John sat asleep on Sherlock's sofa a bag of peas placed on bandaged his forehead. Lestrade had given them a ride to 221B Baker Street. Sherlock was back to being frustrated because they hadn't managed to arrest a single person. He paced around the cramp living room thinking on how to arrest a few hundred. Suzanne had gone into the bathroom to get changed from her dress, Sherlock and John had yet to change.

She walked out wearing a black long neck and sleeve woollen jumper, and matching black fabric trousers. She walked over to a sofa and sat down, Sherlock barely noticed her.

"Temper, temper" she said sarcastically looking at him.

Sherlock said nothing he was too deep in thought so he didn't make an equally sarcastic comment back. "Suzanne you said one was named Arthur. Give me names" turning to her.

"Sherlock, they change their name every week so they've got more than name, if that wasn't the case I would have given them to you from day one."

Sherlock growled and walked up to her "listen you've got to give us more information then you ever had before, now tell me" he nearly shouted at her.

She blinked "Sherlock" she said looking at him calmly "you're tired your brain is becoming irrational, you don't want to solve a case you want to go one up them."

"Well what do you expect they shot you, gave John concussion and I'm sick and tired looking like an idiot in front of them!" he shouted at her walking over to the window.

She looked down then walked to her green coat and took out her tape recorder, she pressed play:

"_Welcome brothers to our meeting, I number four will be your host-"_

"_Where's number three, two or one."-_

She pressed stop Sherlock turned to her "you recorded it?"

"I record everything."

Sherlock grinned at her, he had their voices that was as good as a finger print in this day and age of technology, he threw his arms around her hugging her "you have to be the second cleverest person here!" he said swinging her around.

Suzanne wasn't sure whether to hit him off or enjoy this. She felt herself swinging towards the latter. Sherlock suddenly (IRRATIONAL ALERT) kissed her cheek.

Suzanne put her hand on her cheek a little wide eyed nearly falling over (she didn't). Sherlock seemed to have caught himself also because he practically ran to the other side of the room "well John and I will be submitting this to the authorities" he said blushing furiously.

"Yeah…Do you want me to come with you two…" she muttered blushing too scratching the back of her neck.

"No, no….you've been shot you better stay here and hold the fought."

"Yeah, yeah okay" she nodded still not looking at him.

"Yes."

"Yeah."

"Good."

"Good."

Sherlock kicked John awake with his foot startling the doctor awake. Sherlock grabbed him and the tape recorder and was out the door before the poor John could even properly wake up.

"We'll be back in an hour tops" he shouted to the still in shock Suzanne.

*12:39 Suzanne, Sherlock's sofa*

Suzanne turned off her emergency tape recorder sighing. She heard the door opening. She stood up, she had to say something to the man.

"Sherlock listen-" she stopped short the man wasn't Sherlock.

She was suddenly grabbed and knocked out.

Suzanne lay unconsciously in the arms of Arthur as he put her in the back of his van. He sent a text and a picture to Sherlock saying:

"**Sherlock,**

**We Caught Her,**

**Come And Catch Us Now…"**

The picture was of a building. A building that will haunt Sherlock in his nightmares in years to come.

**DO YOU SEE THAT BUTTON BELOW THAT SAYS REVIEW THIS STORY?... YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO PRESS IT!**


	9. Stay With Me

?

Chapter Nine: Stay With Me

*02:10pm Sherlock, heading back to 221B*

Sherlock walked up the steps he had to think of something to say to her. He even thought of getting her some flowers but then thought against it. Lestrade had to submit John to a hospital for concussion. Damn it. He walked into the dark flat; good it was dark she could be asleep but as he carried into the flat something seemed strange where was her breathing, the couches groans every time she breathed in, or the form of her muttering?

She could be awake…but wouldn't she hear him?

Something was wrong.

He ran up the stairs "Suzanne!" he shouted looking in the living room, the two bedrooms, the bathrooms, the kitchen, every cupboard. But he couldn't find her.

"Mrs Hudson!" he shouted running down the stairs, he heard her snoring in her room, and no way could she be having a chat with Suzanne. He ran outside and called out "Suzanne!" one last time. Silence.

He ran back inside. 'Calm down Sherlock she's probably out thinking again…only her coats still here. She had to be alright, she had to be…' His phone vibrated he immediately picked it up like she could write a text.

He read it. He read it again. And again. He put his back against the nearest wall and slid down into a sitting position. He had failed her. He was supposed to protect her and he couldn't do that right.

*? Suzanne, ?*

Oh….where am I? I'm tied up…. That smell…I haven't smelt that in a long while…it smells like…like…_my brother_?

Footsteps…._Someone is coming._

*05:23pm Sherlock and Lestrade, Questioning room*

Sherlock and Lestrade had been questioning separately for the past three hours. Sherlock had run into the police station for no apparent reason demanding to question all of the gang members that had been arrested. When Sherlock was questioned he refused to answer.

The thirteenth gang member sat back in his chair smirking at the two men, he was almost a copy of the others. Full of his own self confidence and thought he was above the law and didn't care. Sherlock managed to acquire a fairly up to date picture of Suzanne and asked where they would have taken her but they said the exact same answer:

"F**k you old man we're not sayin' nothing."

Sherlock at last lost his little patience; he reached over the table and grabbed the twenty year old by the scruff of his clothing.

"Listen here sunshine" he sneered using his scary policeman voice "if you don't give me the information I need I'll personally see that you will hang, you got that!" he shouted.

The poor boy could see the anger and fire in Sherlock's tired eyes. He gulped trying to laugh it off, but feeling Sherlock's grip tightened around his neck.

"Okay, okay I'll tell yah!" he managed to croak.

Sherlock set the trembling boy down. He shakily looked at the photo. "Yeah that's number 2 she is a traitor they want to kill her tonight."

Sherlock stiffened he pulled out his mobile and showed the boy the picture.

The boy looked at the picture of the grey building on the phone: "that would be base twenty five, near Leeds but further west…That's all I can say…"

Sherlock stood up and walked to the door.

"Mr Holmes, am I safe?…I don't want to die…"

Sherlock frowned breathing through his nostrils he turned "how about this, if I get there in time you live, if I don't you and every other miserable member of the gang in this police station gets hanged" he sniffed before leaving the building to catch a cab.

*06:12pm, Lestrade, John's hospital bed*

Lestrade sat next to John he had just told him both Sherlock and Suzanne had run off. They were both worried when Sherlock or Suzanne wouldn't answer their phone repeatedly.

"What do we do?" asked John sitting up from his bed.

"…Wait I suppose they'll tell us in no time I'm sure."

*?, Suzanne,?*

_Pain. So much PAIN. I'm hurting. Why must I hurt? Why must the truth hurt?_

*06:48pm, Sherlock, in front of the grey building*

Sherlock stood in front of the building…It looked deserted the front door was boarded up as well as the lower windows, apart from the roof top ones that were shut closed. He took three steps back then ran at the door kicking it open.

He looked around the room was pitch black. No light, no sound. A wiser man would have turned and got help, but Sherlock wasn't a wise man.

He walked into the dark building; he clicked his lighter on so he could see where he was going. He wished he hadn't. On the floor was sleeping people in black.

And the light of the lighter awoke them from their slumber, there where millions of shiny eyes on him. Sherlock began to walk backwards to the exit switching off his lighter. He turned and tried to run but his ankle was grabbed by a clammy hand on the floor. He tripped. He fell.

He tried to get up but hands where now grabbing him and pulling him up, punching him, kicking him, and at last dragged him from the room further and further away from the entrance.

Sherlock groaned as they closed the door and the last trickle of light went out. Eleven minutes past of him being dragged through room after room, dragged up a staircase and at last thrown forward onto a hard concrete floor. Sherlock groaned as he stood up.

He heard a chuckle then three blinding factory lights hanging from the celling lit up. His eyes distinctly followed the light until they went to a man in the shadows.

The man was wearing a black suit much like his brothers. In his right hand he held a glass of red wine in the other a 1967 umbrella that was handed down to him, that with a flick of a switch could produce a revolver, quite ingenious. The man's face was hidden from the shadows but even Suzanne could see that this man had absolute respect from the other ruffians that was standing behind him.

"Well, well, well mister Holmes, you have stumbled onto our humble abode. I hope you don't plan on staying *chuckle* you won't fit in that I'm sure of…"

"Who are you…?"

"What a cute little question my name holds little respect next to your name. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. *sigh* your name sends fear to us in the criminal world, the Sherlock Holmes none of us wish to meet."

"Even you?"

"ESPECIALLY me…"

"You still haven't told me your name."

"I'm the prophet, I'm the beast, I'm the man, I'm the madness, yet the order, and I am number one…"

"Your name!"

"Oh…what does…Wayne Miles mean to you…Did I leave such a flittering impression on you?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes Wayne Miles…Where had he heard that name…

*_"Well our new…um…Police Commissioner Wayne Miles,_

…_.I'll take care of Wayne Miles, Okay?"_

"_We came round because Wayne Miles wants us to take her back into questioning,*_

Sherlock blinked…"your London's police Commissioner?"

"Small world *chuckle*…"

Sherlock blinked had Miles been treating them all like puppets for his own enjoyment while he had John, Suzanne, himself and the whole London police dance, he was watching, pulling the strings of the real crime…Wayne Miles number one…was killing women, holding England's most horrific gang and the police force in the palm of his hand…and no one could stop him…

Not even himself…Sherlock Holmes…

Miles slapped his forehead remembering "Ohhhhhhhhhh yes! I forgot your bait! The bait that will kill you now like a brainless fish *chuckle* behind you…"

Sherlock stood up and looked behind him…There under a lamp light was Suzanne. She had a tear down her face…No hand cuffs, no ropes, and no ties…nothing that was keeping her there.

"Suzanne?" he asked preying that puzzle pieces fitting together in his head were wrong, 'please let them be wrong' he prayed.

Suzanne walked over to him looking down another tear fell down her devastated cheek "I'm sorry Sherlock…" she whispered.

No she couldn't have…betrayed him…what about her attempted murder, her helping him and the others…all an act?

He looked at her breathing hard "You're not…saying that you're…helping them…are…you?"

Suzanne looked away sniffing hard.

"This moment if precious…She played you like a harp tried to get information out of you…"

"It wasn't like that…after the meeting with you in the restaurant I quitted…"

"She then lead you to our meeting where that was plan one to try and kill you…Welcome to plan two…"

Sherlock held his head…how could he have been so stupid? She was with them from day one: getting his attention, gaining his trust in finding clues, feeding him the info he didn't need, playing stupid…What was lies and what wasn't?

"I tried to protect you and help you…I didn't want any of this to happen…I tried to stop you…"

"What did make you turn up to the opera that night…" whispered Sherlock; she had saved their lives…maybe she could be on their side…

"We 'persuaded' her not to go…but of course she did when she found out…we sent her a little messenger to show what will happen to you…"

Sherlock looked down. She was part of the gang: she was at the university when a talk by him was set up, when he arrived he was supposed to be interested, impressed…Then they met again where a woman was killed…maybe to distract him from it…Then something went wrong, something Miles didn't suspect she found clues and helped with the body…Suzanne sometime in that time period had found her chance to betray her group of friends…She must have been considered a traitor then, her head on a silver platter alongside his own…She must of seen the trap the opera brought with it and tried to get them away from it. Then Miles showed her his plan through a message…She obviously fearing for John and his life went to them helping them as best she could and protecting them. And now she was used as bait to get Sherlock here to be finally killed…

Wayne Miles was grinning seeing Sherlock put Suzanne's past actions together…Now to deliver the final blow…He smirked he was going to enjoy this "You missed off one thing detective…one little thing…"

Sherlock looked at him questioningly.

"Do you know Suzanne's last name?"

Sherlock said nothing he was dreading this.

"Miles. Suzanne Miles."

Suzanne let out a sob then ran off.

"Let her go" Wayne smirked as two hunters by his side (both heavily armed and holding two snarling dogs) bent ready to run if need be; "she can't do any harm now…after tonight…there will be no fear, no more…"

Sherlock felt a sack go over his head and then he felt himself being knocked out.

*07:12pm, Suzanne, outside the building*

Suzanne ran out grabbing a concrete pole that was part of the grey building. She felt herself sobbing out her heart. She couldn't let them hurt Sherlock…She felt herself fall to her knees. When she first met Sherlock he almost helped her find her true potential, the things she saw when she was looking at something intently she always assumed as pure luck, or a quirk that needed perfecting…but never a _gift. _She shivered as the rain started to drizzle down, when she was around Sherlock she could be herself.

She wasn't number 2.

She wasn't Suzanne Miles.

She was just Suzanne helping the first consulting detective, the last light of the dark British nation.

She had done everything in her power to save him…To help him…Even getting shot for that man…Was it just the thought that she couldn't let her Miles' side win or the fact she had grown…feelings for this man…

She held her head…Why was she thinking these thoughts? How had all of these events become so messed up? What could she do? When did her Miles side lose and her Suzanne side win? Who was she now?

A tear ran down her face as she thought these terrible and confusing thoughts. She couldn't let Sherlock die…she just couldn't.

She looked up there was only one thing she could do. And only she could do it.

*07:18, John, Hospital bed*

John buttoned up the last button on his shirt finally he was going home. He might pop in on Sarah and get some pity from her. Go into the apartment and have a cup of tea and maybe a-

His phone beeped with a text. He groaned Sherlock why must you always-

He was cut short. He was cut short because of the picture. The picture cut him short because it was of Sherlock. The picture of Sherlock cut him short because it was of him tied up and unconscious.

*07:35, John, Lestrade, meeting room*

John had ran to the police station showing Lestrade the picture, Lestrade had told his superiors and now a thorough search through London trying to find the detective.

Wayne Miles had called Lestrade to tell him one of his men saw Suzanne pick up Sherlock in a cab and drive away with him. Most of the man hunts were looking for her now too.

Thirty minutes had past and still nothing.

At last Anderson dragged in a dishevelled Suzanne in his tow. "Found her sir, wondering by a station not even trying to hide.

Suzanne sniffed looking away, she was too demoralised that anything the sneering Anderson would say wouldn't make her feel any less a human being.

John looked at her his head tilted slightly "Where's Sherlock?"

Suzanne looked away another tear falling down her cheek once more.

"Where is he?" John nearly shouted.

"A place he can never escape from" she whispered looking at him.

John took a step back and so did Lestrade.

"And I need your help I've got a plans it's-"

"Woh, Woh, woh" snarled Anderson tightening his grip on her "You expect us to go out on a whim to help you, the person our Police Commissioner thinks kidnap the man, with no info and probably waste valuable police time and men?"

"….Yes!"

*08:29, Suzanne, questioning room*

Suzanne sighed, god she hated the system. She had sat their telling them knowledge they didn't need, to a man who couldn't possibly understand while a devastating thing was happening. She had been there over an hour just talking.

She had confessed and told them everything.

She had told them about her help in the gang's workings.

How she had at first helped them.

How she had known about the gang's plan but withheld it.

How Wayne Miles was behind all of this.

And how she was used as bait to lure Sherlock into a trap.

There was no point denying anything she only preyed that if she cooperated nicely they might spare her. And as she sat waiting for the police chief's verdict, she felt a wave of despair wash over her. She could save Sherlock a million times yet he'll never trust her again. She pulled her green coat even tighter around herself, after feeling her body grow cold and numb. Was this how Sherlock always felt? Numb and cold?

Lestrade walked in her head snapped up to attention. This was it.

Lestrade sighed "Suzanne I'm arresting you for conspiracy, fraud and accomplice to kidnap, betrayal and crime. You have the right to remain silence; anything you do say will be taken down in evidence something you will later rely on in court."

Lestrade took out some hand cuffs and cuffed her too wrists together.

"Hand cuffs!" she exclaimed not quit believing they were really not excepting her help.

"What else can we do Miles? You have just confessed."

Suzanne felt her shoulders being grabbed by someone behind her and dragged away. She panicked "you won't be able to save him without my help! You go one foot within that bases radius and Sherlock Holmes will be no more. Wayne Miles is playing all of us. But with me on your side you have a chance!"

Lestrade kept walking ignoring her walking away. Suzanne was dragged away into a cell where she was locked in. She paced around trying to find a means to escape but found none. She tried screaming like a Banshee pleading for them to let her help, but there came no answer. She tried to kick the door down but missed and came crashing down onto her back, she rubbed her head trying to stop the concussion that was rapidly increasing. She laid back thinking, she at least have time to perfect her plan, get it ready so it could be put into motion.

*08:40pm, Lestrade, Anderson, Sally, John and other police men (and women), meeting room*

Lestrade cleared his throat, looking around at the questioning looks from his most trusted officers in the force and his dearest friends. He cleared his throat a decision had to be made. And by him. Crap. "Okay" he murmured, "I assume you all know why we're here…If not then leave because I am really not in the mood for questions. We have to get Sherlock out of the gang's hands and arrest as many gang members as possible. We need to do this before twelve o'clock tonight, and one little hiccup in our plan could spell disaster for the future of the British society."

"No pressure then" murmured Sally "sir what if we let the gang and the freak alone, they will soon see we aren't going to plan ball and hand him back."

"Sally, these people can't be bargained with" John hissed to her "they don't want money, they want to kill Sherlock."

Sally looked down and murmured something about joining a queue.

"We need a plan…I suggest we go undercover to see if we get in then nab Sherlock."

"Only one problem" John muttered "they seem to recognise everyone and I doubt we will go within one foot before we're discovered."

"Raid the building" somebody questioned.

"The police Commissioner seems to think that Suzanne lead him the highest floor, he'll be dead before we're half up." Lestrade snapped defeated.

"Explode the building?"

"That's a little…Dark."

They sat brain storming like this for another thirty minutes, when all of their phones beeped with a text saying:

"**I'VE CHANGED MY MIND,**

**5 HOURS TO 4,**

**AT 12:00 SHERLOCK HOLMES WILL BREATHE,**

**HIS LAST BREATH.**

**1"**

Attached to this disturbing message was a picture, a picture of Sherlock a few weeks ago looking at the phone, but it had been altered with pictures because he had a gun shot through the head, a knife through his neck, and he was wearing sun glasses.

There was a silence. Lestrade knew they were telling the truth. Sherlock was going to die in exactly two hours and he had no plan and no idea on how to help him.

He had only one clear choice.

*08:59, Suzanne, Police Cell 2*

Suzanne was lying on her back still on the floor; her mind had been working overtime to come up with a fall proof scheme to get Sherlock out. She sat up upon hearing over thirty pairs of feet walking towards her cell; she could easily recognise Anderson, John, Lestrade and Sally muttering her grumpy protests.

Her cell door was opened she stood up, and held out her hand cuffed wrists "release me if you want him to live."

*09:31 (three hours and twenty one minutes left)*

"The black gang's defence maybe impressive but not impossible, their security practice is to look at the registration plates on a car so if you block these they will not be able to spot you on their system. Don't drive a police cruiser or wear your police clothing near the base, they have cameras everywhere." Suzanne stopped for breath.

"The windows on the lower floors are blocked but there is a blind spot on a cupboard window on the roof. If I can reach Sherlock I will try to find this window signal you for you to enter the building." She looked around at everyone to see if they were nodding.

She waited until they had all gone to get some normal clothes and their normal cars now with a painted number plate.

John walked over to Suzanne "do you think there's hope?" he asked.

Suzanne looked down she couldn't think about failure, if she could get Sherlock out of the building then that itself would be a miracle, hope was not part of the recipe, it was all luck. That was all. Whether it was good or bad was all down to the people. "I don't believe in hope" was all she said before leaving with him.

*09:51 (three hours and nine minutes left)*

Suzanne and John was sharing Lestrade's car, waiting for the moment would come for the car to stop. Suzanne's heart was beating and her hands where trembling. She closed her eyes there was no going back now. She felt John squeeze her hand trying to comfort her; she smirked at him bravely sniffing. The sky let out a low moan a storm was coming.

The car stopped.

Her stop.

She undid her seat belt and opened the door. "Remember don't move without my signal" she instructed to Lestrade and John.

Lestrade nodded his walkie-talkie clasped firmly to his left hand. Suzanne walked over to the building her heart was thumping in her chest this was going to be the hardest thing she had to do.

She opened the door and walked inside. She closed the door behind her she was alone. She was suddenly grabbed and wrestled down by a silent hunter, who was in the shadows.

"What's the password?" he murmured into her ear slowly.

"Gareth" she whispered she was terrified.

"I think not. I think not" he murmured smiling down at her.

A click of the fingers was her saviour. The Miles click, her brother was watching. The hunter immediately arose and ran off into the shadows.

Wayne walked over to her silently looking at her with a sneer. "What do you want?" he said with artificial sincerity.

Suzanne had not been expecting a wide patrol she had to think on her toes, "I-I wanted to impress you Wayne."

"Really" he mumbled grouchily "how is sneaking back into my base supposed to impress me after you betrayed me?"

"Well…I wanted to show you I can be on your side again…We are family…"

Wayne snarled at her, he then smirked at her knowingly "you want to break him out don't you?" he questioned.

"I-I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Poor grammar sure sign that you are lying to me…" he took her chin in his finger and thump pressing his nails into her. Suzanne tried not to flinch. "You had feelings for him didn't you?"

"I-I needed to gain his trust for you sir…"

"Hmmmm," he letting her go, "you have made yourself clear on more than one occasion that you don't like the system."

"Well I-Well I have a gift for you" she said trying to act like Sherlock when acting. "I managed to get the whole of the metropolitan police into a trap, to wait for my signal inside here to set off some…explosives…only it's wired to their cars and they'll be exploded, sort of." She rambled, was it the fact she was nervous or she was a poor liar that made it sound that unconvincing?

Wayne smiled, "show me" he smiled testing her.

Suzanne looked down, "I have to go upstairs to the highest window to give them the signal…sir."

Wayne obviously didn't like this; "in future" he snarled "keep your hair brained schemes to yourself."

Suzanne looked down "yes sir."

"And consider this as you punishment" he snarled grabbing her wrist with a chip gun and micro chipping her "this way I can keep track of you…Don't even think of taking it out…or else they'll be real trouble…away with you."

Suzanne held her bleeding wrist in her left hand, it hurt like hell but she managed to stay poker face "yes sir…" She gave him one final look then slowly walked away.

"Forty Three!" Wayne snapped. The hunter who had grabbed Suzanne walked forward out of the shadows.

"Shall I kill her sir?" he asked.

"No, turn on her tracking chip…don't let her out of your site" he grumbled before walking into the shadows.

*10:13, Suzanne (one hour and forty seven minutes)*

Suzanne walked around the base going up and down the steps trying to through the hunter off of her sent, she at last after twenty minutes straight with that tried walking to the holding cell where she knew Sherlock was. She took three steps in when she was stopped by two men.

"You're not going a step closer, number ones orders that no one is to go into that area apart from number four, one and especially not you."

They gave her a small shove as they pushed her out of the corridor. Damn it! Why was nothing ever easy nowadays? She paced slightly in a circle, the cupboard, Sherlock and the only clear place to set up a signal was there. Damn it!

She leant against a window thinking hard, how was she supposed to distract five or six guards away from one area, sound credible and have enough time to bust Sherlock out? She opened the window a little to get some fresh air. She put her hands on the frame breathing hard trying to calm down. She suddenly had an idea.

She put her hand shakily on the balcony. Around this floor at least she knew a narrow and small balcony went around the building. She put her foot out instinctively and swung it onto it. It took half her weight, it might take more. She took a deep breath and slide her other foot on then braising herself put her entire weight on it.

She closed the window her back pressed flat onto the wall; there was a foot difference between the nearest wall and the balcony. She took several deep breaths not wanting to think that if the crumbling stone couldn't take her weight or if she slipped she would fall to her death for sure.

She closed her eyes sweat dribbling down her hot face. This is for Sherlock, she told herself, just picture Sherlock on the other end.

She had to pass five windows to get to his. She took five more deep breaths, in through the mouth out through the nose… or was it the other way around?

She began to walk sideways, slowly and carefully.

That's the first window…pass it slowly so you don't fall through it.

Second…see this isn't so bad.

Woh! Woh…nearly captured by the wind and skidded away. Alright take your breaths clear your head you can do this.

Okay start moving again…This is the second window…? No! No it's the third…no miscalculations.

Keep moving.

What if he's no there?

Move your left foot then your right beside it.

The fourth…What if I miscalculated?

Don't turn forward or you'll slip.

She breathed out hard as she felt the fifth window's hard frame. She slowly bent her knees and pressed her back against the glass. She then used her stick to bash a hole through the cracked glass, the whole thing broke and she fell in trying not to scream.

When she at last recovered she felt a chair in the middle of the room and on that chair was a person she knew all too well. She stood up brushing the glass from her shoulders and hair. Sherlock.

Sherlock, was sitting on the chair limply, obviously unconscious. She slowly walked over to him; she put her hand on the side of his face.

She felt him flinch awake immediately.

It didn't take him long to recognise her. He jerked his face away looking away.

Suzanne felt a sob escape her lips feeling the rejection.

"Sherlock" she managed to croak "please Sherlock forgive me…I" she looked away; the sentence "I love you" seemed to make everything worse.

She went around to his back and began to untie his hands.

"What are you doing?" he asked stiffly not turning.

"I've come to help you escape will you accept my help?"

"Who are you?" he asked still not turning.

She breathed out through her nose tears still falling; she still had her hands dug deep in Sherlock's ropes trying to release still. She had to give him an answer: the truth. "Suzanne Miles, number two in a group I never liked. Ran by a brother who never loved me."

"He's your brother?"

"Yes…He is number one…kept in the family business."

"Why does he want to kill me?"

Suzanne said nothing; she at last managed to cut off the last piece of rope. She sat on her knees miserably feeling his hands slipping from hers to test his wrist.

Until at last murmuring "you mister Holmes are the last light of London, your name is the only thing stopping low lives from taking over our delicate society. Wayne wishes to run the country leading the largest gang in England and the police he'd been untouchable. But you'd see right through him, so he made it so you'd never see him. But his power started to grow and he became more overcome by his own power, so he has to get rid of you so he can fully branch out. I was a solider uncover biding my time, I saw my brothers mental state decay over the years and I knew he'd pull London into a dark and desperate time. So I waited for the right moment to see if there was a kink in armour he had built around himself… I found no such thing…I found you…I had to help you…only you could stop him…though I had to be careful…Wayne would blow up Baker Street if he thought you knew the wrong thing so I played dumb to give you more time…The dance was a plot on your life…I was not supposed to come along but I had to help you….Listen to me Sherlock…I am so sorry…If you just let me help you I swear I'll leave your life and never retur-.

She was cut short Sherlock had grabbed her and had pulled her into a hug.

Suzanne blinked her face wet from her tears, "your-you're not…mad…?" she asked slowly.

"No…I was just…*sigh* I felt betrayed…but you…and I…I…" he lapsed into silence.

Suzanne lent her forehead against his. She felt her cheeks grow red as she realised she was on his knee, and had a hand on his chest. She took her hands off of his body and put them on his face…Her thumbs against his lips slightly tracing his lips. Maybe it was because she had been crying so hard…Or maybe she just had a tough day...

But she found herself leaning forwards against Sherlock

…

And placed her lips against his…

Sherlock's arms immediately tightened around her body bringing her closer.

She put her arms around his neck…

At some point she realised what she was doing and tried to bringing her face away.

But Sherlock was not having that and followed her face and put his hands on the back of her head and kissed her right back.

A small spark went up her back feeling this.

She opened her mouth slightly but Sherlock did not take the bait.

They sat their two bodies' together, chaos yet control, wrong yet right, in character yet out. It didn't matter to either as long as they had this one moment they didn't care…

…

But every moment has to end…

…

They broke away breathing hard.

Sherlock let out a small laugh.

"What is it?" she asked her forehead against his.

"It's just for the first in my life I feel…my heart…beating…"

Suzanne smiled a small laugh escaping her lips too.

They pressed their lips together one last time. Their arms around each other. No tongues. No hands. Just their lips…

When at last they did break away, they sat there for a long time. Sherlock had his head on hers while she balanced her head on his shoulder.

"Yes" murmured Sherlock not looking at her.

"Yes what?" she asked sitting up so they could look at each other.

"Yes I'll let you help me."

She grinned her heart started to bang again though. She stood up and held out her hand for him to grab. Then she pulled him onto his feet so he could stand beside her.

"Okay we're looking for a store room or cupboard about five meters to the left you are going have to be my eyes and ears for this and hopefully-"

"What's wrong with your wrist?"

"Nothing. So anyway hopefully we will not be seen but if we are then we'll have to improvise….Sherlock what are you doing?" she asked as she felt her right wrist picked up and examined.

She heard him sigh slightly as he finished looking at her bleeding wrist, he slipped his slim index finger and thumb into the wound and managed to fish out the microchip. It let out a couple of electric shocks before it sparked out. Sherlock disgustedly threw it out the window before whipping his hands. She smiled a little at him, she awkwardly put her arms around his neck to hug him, and Sherlock even more awkwardly put his arms around her too.

Suzanne broke away, "I'll, um, I'll clear the way for you…."

"Do you need any help?" he asked looking everywhere but her.

"No…no you better stay down...I'll only be a minute…and then when I um, give you the signal you come…okay?"

Sherlock nodded but then swallowed out "Yeah, yeah…."

Suzanne walked out…It was a little too hot in that room. She pressed her hot banging body against the cool stone wall and tried to get her head around what had happened in those five minutes.

"What are you doing here?" came a voice beside her.

She turned to feel number four by her side glaring at her.

"I've come to tell you the prisoner needs to be moved."

"No one told me anything about it" Arthur murmured.

"Go look inside and see for yourself."

Arthur looked into the room where Sherlock was held. He immediately saw he had set himself free. "Gu-" he wanted to shout "Guards" but Suzanne had grabbed him and pushed him into the chair, where she tied him up and gaged him.

Sherlock looked out the door keeping watch; no one seemed to have heard him. Suzanne stood next to him looking out the door too.

"Got your breath back?"

"Ready when you are."

Suzanne grabbed Sherlock's hand and they both ran.

*10:51 (one hour and nine minutes left), Wayne Miles, someplace dark*

"Your sister sir. Is gone!"

"Suzanne?"

"She's wounded number four, and has taken the prisoner with her."

"Suzanne….I'll burn her….I'LL BURN HER!" he shouted standing up grabbing his umbrella.

*10:53, Suzanne and Sherlock, still running*

They were both running preying they wouldn't be seen by the enemy.

Sherlock's eagle eyes suddenly spotted a cupboard door that was five doors down.

"To your right there's a door I think that's us."

They both skidded to a halt, threw the door and hide inside.

Suzanne undid Sherlock's scarf and used it to signal when she opened the window. She looked around waiting for a signal back like, the police to run in charging. That was the plan.

"Suzanne…Where's the police…?"

"They'll be here…They better…"

They looked out into the silence, until a blinding light hit the window. Sherlock looked down and grinned to see a whole force of police below them with a search light. He also saw John, Lestrade, Anderson and many others all wearing normal clothes. Another police force was forcing their way through the door.

"You did it Suzanne!" shouted John "you did it!"

"I did didn't I? It's not over yet" she half shouted half murmured back.

The police force was still yet to break in and their hiding place was surely getting noticed. Suzanne and Sherlock heard hundreds of feet running towards the door. Suzanne put her ear to the door. "Sherlock its Wayne…What do we do?"

"Wait a moment they might not know we're here…"

Two doors up, the door was ripped off of its hinges then with a machine gun shot every possible object. Suzanne ran to the window only to hear disappointedly the police had yet to break in. Next door the machine gun had gone off; they needed to buy some time. Suzanne needed to buy some time for Sherlock

She grinned at Sherlock, then walked boldly up to the door, wrenched it open, walked out and blocked the entrance to the door by placing her back against it. What had she done? She closed her eyes as her brother and his accomplices saw her.

"I trusted you Suzanne" Wayne snarled walking in front of the gang "now you can trust me…You can either be blown to pieces or shot down, there's nowhere left to run."

Wayne looked around the group murmuring "number 46, 298, when I give the word we run straight into her…and make sure you don't miss. There are no policemen here to save you now"

The two thugs smiled cracking their knuckles.

"NOW!" shouted Wayne running towards Suzanne. She kept her eyes snapped shut.

"There they are!" she shouted, the gang stopped for five seconds looking around terrified.

She waited for the blows to her body when the door was opened behind her and she was grabbed into someone's arms.

Sherlock heard Wayne discus his plan to the group of men, when he heard him shout "Now!" He had reached out and grabbed Suzanne back into the room with him.

He then pushed a cupboard against the door. They had a little time before Miles and his sidekicks could open that door.

Suzanne was breathing hard it will take her a while to get used, to Sherlock holding her like this. She resisted the urge to put her head onto his chest.

"DON'T YOU _EVER_ DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!" he nearly shouted to her holding her tight.

"That's a promise" she whispered.

Sherlock breathed out holding her head slightly she had bought them some time but not much. The group of men outside where beginning to bash the door down and turn over the cupboard, Suzanne and Sherlock used everything in the room to barricade the door, at last there was nothing left, and the group was still going. Suzanne looked out the window, she had an idea. She took off one of her shoes and threw it out of the window. Then five seconds later she threw down her last shoe.

Lestrade felt a shoe hit his head he looked up to see Suzanne throw down her last shoe. She couldn't be thinking.

"JOHN!" he shouted.

The doctor ran over to him, Lestrade whispered something into his ear, then shouted to the other police officers "GET A BLANKET BETWEEN YOU ALL…I think they're going to jump."

*11:34, Wayne Miles, bashing the door down*

Wayne and the others in his group where running and the door shooting at it and kicking it, they were almost through.

*11:36, Suzanne and Sherlock, trying to find a way to escape*

The door didn't have much left in it they had three minutes if they were lucky. Suzanne put her hand on the roof, it slide down about three meters until it ran out of roof then they would flip down until they reached the ground.

"Okay…This will either kill us or…"

"They are going to kill us anyway" Suzanne muttered.

"I…I think I better test it out…to see if it works that way if it all goes wrong it wouldn't matter as much."

She nodded, it didn't really matter who went first just as long as it worked. Sherlock cleared his throat steadily…"in case…I don't make it then….well…I…I wouldn't have got this far without you…"

"Yeah you wouldn't be here for starters."

"All I'm saying is that you've done so much for me…"

"And it has been my pleasure…Sherlock listen…I'm sorry…"

The door let out a groan it had thirty seconds left before the hinges would give in, they could already see Wayne's mad face through the crack. They had to be quick.

"…I love you… have a safe landing…bye" she rushed she had to get that off her chest.

Sherlock stared at her as she kissed his cheek, he lent forward but the door suddenly gave in.

"You should go instead of me" he shouted trying to push her out the window.

"No! You have to go they need you more!" she said turning around and pushing him out instead.

Sherlock, slide down the roof on his back backwards, and suddenly he ran out and he was falling. He fell to the ground, the window rapidly getting further and further away…So was Suzanne he wanted to fly back up there and take her away…but instead he fell. Until he fell into a blanket, and was saved.

*11: 48, Wayne Miles, running into the room*

Wayne saw Sherlock jumping out the window, he shoved Suzanne out the way and looked out, he saw Sherlock on a blanket surrounded by police men and guns….DAMN IT!

*11:49, Suzanne, on the floor*

Suzanne was breathing hard on the floor…Had she saved Sherlock or killed him? She suddenly noticed something under a desk…a little glass bottle…She picked it up…It had the letters PFG on imprinted on the glass…What did PFG stand for?...Oh…Oh yes…

*11:53, Wayne Miles, full of vengeance*

Wayne turned Suzanne who was on the floor; he motioned for her to be picked up. His fellow thugs picked her up by the shoulders; she floppily got to her feet limply, but not wanting to show weakness you get herself as tall as she could and to attention.

Wayne circled her slowly then turned away "all I want to know is why? Why did you do it? You know the consequences."

Suzanne looked at him through narrowed eyes "…I guess you don't know me as well as you think you do…You have miscalculated I love Sherlock more than I fear you."

Wayne Miles growled fire burning in his eyes "NO YOU HAVE MISCALCULATED YOU SHOULD BE FEARING ME MORE…" he grabbed his gun laughing a little as she backed away to the window. "They'll be no point issuing any wedding planes sister…."

"Come on and try you crack-brained slave driver!"

*11:56, Sherlock, waiting for her*

Sherlock and the others were waiting below for Suzanne to come down too. Every minute that past was worse than the last. John was holding him back so he couldn't run back into the building to check on her.

Then the gun shot rang out…

*12:00, Suzanne, Falling*

Everyone gasped.

Suzanne lent against the window a wound in her stomach…she doubled over groaning, she leaned over too far for she fell down out the window, she fell onto her back then slide down the roof like a rag doll.

Then she fell down.

The police force just caught her with the blanket.

She laid there limply her joints at odd and painful angles.

Blood was still running out of her nasty gun wound in her guts.

Sherlock and John ran over to her, she wasn't moving.

Sherlock reached out a hand to touch her.

Her eyes snapped open like she was trying with her last breath to see.

A light down pour of rain fell down on the police force surrounding her.

Sherlock felt tears going down his face. He picked her up gently. He body laid limply in his arms. She shook a little groaning.

"Suzanne look at me, focus…and calm down." He said his voice cracking.

She laid her head against his chest breathing out calmly.

"I…I….L-L-Lovvvve U…I…I…I am…t-" she managed to slur after chocking a little.

Sherlock rested his head against hers breathing out. He felt tears going down his wet face.

He sat down in the wet felling her body suddenly tense up against his.

He looked down at her.

Her unfocused eyes closed slightly.

He shook her a little. Her limp body shook too but she didn't awake.

She was dead.

"No!" he suddenly shrieked burying his face into her tears running hard and painfully down his face.

He shook hard tears falling down his face. Everyone looked down, John looked away tears falling down his face and a couple of police officers took off their hats too.

Sherlock pressed a kiss onto her forehead. The whole world had stopped for this. At twelve o'clock. The only thing that hadn't stopped was the rain that was getting heavier and heavier by the second.


	10. Epilogue

?

Epilogue

*03:12pm John, on his lap top Blog*

**And so…That was the first and last time I have ever seen Sherlock cry and care for another's pain…He still hasn't said her name…Suzanne. He's sitting on the sofa with a cigarette in his mouth and three nicotine patches on each arm. He hasn't opened the curtains either…Maybe this is his way in coping…I thought a case might take his mind off things but he hasn't accepted a single job…I'm getting worried…**

**John Watson: Love Is Blind**

John pressed "save" and flipped the screen down on his lap top. He turned around sighing; Sherlock was staring into space, a little spaced out because of the high dosage of nicotine and cigarettes. On the table in front of him was thousands of letters requesting his services. It had been one week since the…incident.

John cleared his throat trying to get the detective's attention. The detective didn't even blink to acknowledge him. John picked up a letter and opened it. "Oh there's a woman who acquires your assistance in finding her lovvvvvvvvvvvvvvveeee- errrr here's another letter." He said dropping the letter he was reading like it was on fire.

Sherlock said nothing he just closed his eyes.

John saw the photograph Suzanne on the right arm of the chair. He reached out his hand to pick it up. Sherlock's hand immediately snatched up the tiny picture and put it on the arm opposite John.

John sighed he should have known better. This week had not been easy for Sherlock. Suzanne had written on her will that if she was to die she didn't want a funeral she wanted her body to be given to science. So no funeral, no last goodbyes, no true feelings to be ushered to her sleeping body. Nothing.

John leaned forward. "Sherlock" he said trying again.

Sherlock said nothing just took out a fresh nicotine patch out of the packet.

John grabbed it and ripped it out of his hand and scrunched it up.

Sherlock didn't say anything he just took out another patch from the packet, rolled up his right sleeve and pressed it on his arm. Then he sat back groaning his eyes closed.

"Sherlock this isn't healthy."

Sherlock took stubbed out his cigarette and lit another in a matter of seconds.

"I remember when my first girlfriend dumped me…it wasn't easy but you need to get through this…"

"She wasn't my girlfriend and we didn't break up" slurred Sherlock (the first acknowledgment to John since that night).

"Sherlock you cared about her" John insisted "you were in LOVE Sherlock it happens."

"Yeah" Sherlock said calmly "and then it all HAD TO GO OUT THE BLOODY WINDOW WITH HER WITH IT!" he suddenly shouted standing up swerving a little in the process, "SHE LAID THERE IN MY ARMS, JOHN AND I Could do nothing. Do you know that makes me feel? Do you know how _sick _that makes me feel? I didn't even get to say thank you, goodbye or return the feelings I just SAT there and let it all go through my fingers like an idiot." He shouted still reeling about the flat, looking for his second box of cigarettes.

"Sherlock," John said calmly picking up the cigarettes out of his reach "she knew how you felt. It was at times bleeding obvious. And when she laid there I saw her expression…and so did you…She looked happy and content like she knew you was the one holding her."

"We have no proof of that" Sherlock said shakily sitting back down holding his now throbbing head.

"Sherlock we might never know but she tried to TELL you something…I don't know what it was for certain…but I bet anything it was… 'don't live in the past and MOVE on!'" John nearly shouted at the detective. He then boldly stood and with a flourish threw the curtains open.

Sherlock groaned covering his eyes.

John picked up the letters and pored them over Sherlock. "Pick one" he murmured.

Sherlock looked through his empty boxes of cigarettes to see if he missed one.

"I SAID PICK ONE…" John shouted.

Sherlock sighed and took a letter that was resting on his head and opened it.

"Open and shut domestics not worth my time…" he murmured throwing it away.

John opened another letter smiling "There's a ghost dog killing many people in the country."

Sherlock said nothing.

"All within one family."

"Murmur."

"And the dog itself is three times bigger than a grey hound…"

Sherlock sighed he took the letter out of John's hands and read it.

He then sighed again. He slowly stood up picking up his coat in the process.

John smiled he knew it would take, weeks, months, years in fact, before the old Sherlock was back.

…

But wasn't there something fantastic about that?

Sherlock cleared his throat "Doctor we will need a cab, a spatula, shoe polish and my fountain pen for this." He murmured removing five nicotine patches from his busy arm.

John did an amused grunt as he went down the stairs jollily, glad Sherlock seemed to be back for the time being.

Sherlock waited until John had closed the front door to order a cab.

He then pulled out the familiar picture of her smiling,

He smiled at it for a little longer then put it beside the skull.

"Who have thought that one blind girl could have given me so much happiness?"

He murmured to himself his middle finger tip touching her face very slightly. He then walked out leaving the picture behind, closing the door behind him.

**And now because this moment isn't sad enough**

Did I disappoint you or let you down?

Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?

'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,

Yes I saw you were blind and I knew I had won.

So I took what's mine by eternal right.

Took your soul out into the night.

It may be over but it won't stop there,

I am here for you if you'd only care.

You touched my heart you touched my soul.

You changed my life and all my goals.

And love is blind and that I knew when,

My heart was blinded by you.

I've kissed your lips and held your head.

Shared your dreams and shared your bed.

I know you well, I know your smell.

I've been addicted to you.

Goodbye my lover.

Goodbye my friend.

You have been the one.

You have been the one for me.

Goodbye my lover.

Goodbye my friend.

You have been the one.

You have been the one for me.

I am a dreamer and when I wake,

You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.

And as you move on, remember me,

Remember us and all we used to be

I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.

I've watched you sleeping for a while.

I'd be the father of your child.

I'd spend a lifetime with you.

I know your fears and you know mine.

We've had our doubts but now we're fine,

And I love you, I swear that's true.

I cannot live without you.

Goodbye my lover.

Goodbye my friend.

You have been the one.

You have been the one for me.

Goodbye my lover.

Goodbye my friend.

You have been the one.

You have been the one for me.

And I still hold your hand in mine.

In mine when I'm asleep.

And I will bear my soul in time,

When I'm kneeling at your feet.

Goodbye my lover.

Goodbye my friend.

You have been the one.

You have been the one for me.

I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.

I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.

**HOLD ON! IT'S NOT OVER YET!**

A taxi parked.

The taxi driver was paid…

A woman with crutches walked out.

Her deep green coat flapped in the wind and suitcase stood awkwardly next to her.

She made her way to the euro star platform waiting for the train.

Inside her coat was a train ticket to northern France, a very special tape with it and another special object too.

She past a woman who was reading a newspaper.

"Sophie" she muttered passing her.

The newspaper woman turned around "how did you know it was me?"

"Obvious…were you followed?"

"Who me? Nah. Anyway why are you worrying? The gang is practically over Wayne's is getting hung and you're getting off scot free hooray!"

"Maybe it would be wise to stay and-"

"And get hung too!"

"Yes but lying to…" she looked away.

Sophie slapped her forehead "Oh yeah you and lover boy…Sherrill…Sherri…some funny name…Sherlock that's it! Have you slept with him yet-"

"I'm running away from him."

"What! How can you do that?"

"I have too."

"Yes but…why?"

"Because…I…I love him…" she looked down waiting for her train, her crutches stood motionless by her side. Even the wind had died down.

Sophie nodded "You're right he can't know you have too many enemies' here… and if any stragglers from the group find out…they might try and kill him because…you know…they are saying you and him…You two didn't…did you?"

"…No…I wish we had…but…no…"

"Oh Phew…"

A train pulled up…Her train…

She had one last thing to do…

"Sophie…I want Sherlock to know I'm alright…I don't want him to feel alone…and even though I know he doesn't return my feelings I…Need him…

She pulled out her special tape.

"Give this to him. Post it, deliver it in person, I don't care but…please…"

Sophie stiffly took the small tape from her sister's hand.

The train blew its whistle.

Suzanne sighed she walked on slowly to the train, then even slower walked on. She found a seat very quickly. She sighed wiping a tear from her eyes as she felt her home being left behind.

*Sophie*

Sophie stiffly sat down, took out her own tape recorder, and harshly snapped the tape in.

Suzanne's message and Confession:

_Okay I had a whole thing planned for this but I guess I better say it as it comes…_

_I'm not dead…It was all an act…Well being shot in the guts wasn't an act but...Right from when I started the gang this was my plan…Fake my death then go to Sophie's apartment in France and start a new life._

…

_But that was before I met you…Sherlock…I thought saying this into a machine would be easier but…it's not…Sherlock I love you…I know I've already told you but I just want to tell you: I meant it, I mean it…Every word…_

_When I was in that room he had managed to grab that gun and I knew I was for it so…I walked close to the window and…I injected myself with Chalnorin Phlices PFG…Or a very sharp sleeping drug that stopped my pulse from being so…obvious…_

_That's when he shot me and…_

_I fell…_

…_My Yoga training helped me recreate the image of broken bones…I knew it come in handy…And then you…_

_And then you…Picked me up and…Believe me Sherlock I wanted to stay awake but…Damn my cowardliness…*sniff* I was then put in a freezer where my bleeding was of course stopped._

_That's when I awakened and pulled the bullet from my gut then made my escape. I was still fully clothed and my dark jumper must have covered up most of the blood. In a few weeks' time they will come up with some cock and bull story saying my body was stolen or something but they are wrong remember that._

_But Sherlock I need to keep my head down…They'll hang me…Yes they will and you know it. And the gang…Once they find out the leader's sister is still alive then this whole nightmare will start again…Also…I know this isn't fair but…I know your feelings for me…I'm your friend…like a sister even…but I know you will never accept me again…Not after I…_

_I need time…I will send you lots of letters through Sophie and…If you can find it in your heart to forgive me…maybe we can return messages…_

_I'm sorry…._

_I'll love you forever…_

_Suzanne…_

The tape stopped with a snap…

Sophie stared at it boot face…

Suzanne needed a new life…

And some LOW life that had no feelings for her wasn't getting HER SISTER down.

Before she knew what she had done she dropped the tape and squashed it flat.

She stared down at it…Then she looked up…She knew it was best…She will make sure Sherlock will never hear from her sister again…

Sophie got up.

And walked away.

And with every step.

Her decision became firmer.

*Suzanne*

Suzanne waited at last the train started slowly.

'Sherlock Holmes…One day someday…I'm sure we'll meet again through fate and love.

…Until then…This last treasure I hold in my pocket…

…I'll take care of the only piece of evidence that ensures my existence…

…So I can give it to you in the future….

….When at last we meet again…'

She took out her pocket her last treasure: Sherlock's scarf…She sniffed his scent smiling slightly…then she hugged it against her chest…one small tear escaping her grey eyes…

THE END

I can write a sequel…I have an idea….But I guess the deadness of the reviews indicate no one really cares…DX…

Yugicanbesexy

UPDATE: THERE IS A SEQUAL! IT'S CALL Exclamation Mark: ! I don't think it's as good as this but please read it. If this hyperlink comes out properly click here:

.net/s/6305700/1/bExclamation_b_bMark_b


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